Monday was a disaster!
After meeting two friends for lunch, I tried to leave the parking lot at the restaurant, but my car would not start: it was dead.
AAA was called to arrange for a jump.
I scrambled to find the phone number for my stylist, explaining that I may not make my hair cut appointment.
An hour later, the guy AAA sent arrived and jumped the battery. All was well.
I barely made my haircut appointment.
Thinking I would need a new battery, I left the car running. I decided to go to the service station after my hair cut. It wasn't meant to be: the car stopped and refused to start.
Another call was made for a jump.
This time the service guy was from a different business and was not as competent as the first. If it wasn't so stressful, it might have been funny. The guy fumbled around inside the service truck cab, came out and stared at the hood, went back inside the cab and fumbled around even more. It was obvious he was looking for a hood-release lever.
The service truck was a Ford, and since I owned a Ford pickup several years ago, I walked over and opened the hood for him. From that point, he didn't fill me with confidence, and it didn't get any better.
My car refused to start.
The service guy pulled out a cell phone and called his boss for advice. The boss told him several things to try. Nothing worked.
By then, I was sure the problem was more extensive than a dead battery, probably electronic or electrical because some of the systems had power and others didn't. I decided it was time to "throw in the towel" and get the car to the Toyota dealer in Lander - 30 miles away.
I asked for the bill for the service call and said I was having the car towed to Lander. The service guy's boss was somewhat miffed; he wanted to take the car to their shop and told me I was being foolish for taking it to Toyota. He said, I needed to have my husband (I don't have one) keep a sharp eye on the Toyota service department and the repairs that were done. That statement irritated me since it insinuated a woman could not make intelligent decisions about car repairs without a man's supervision.
I wanted to tell the boss that I refused to put my car in the hands of a business that hired service techs who couldn't even open the hood on their own vehicle, especially when that vehicle was sent to provide a battery jump.
A towing service was called, and within forty minutes, my car was being loaded on the truck by an extremely competent and professional driver. I immediately knew my car was in good hands, even without the approval of a "husband."
• my knitting buddy, Cheryl didn't mind dropping everything to come and take me home
• the repair was not as extensive as I had anticipated
• my car insurance paid the towing costs
• a female can make decisions without the approval of a male
• a blown alternator fuse and a dead cell in the battery
• day and a half without my car
• someone else will be at the mercy of the incompetent guy who now may or may not know how to open the hood of his service truck