Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Pack Me In Ice

Today I went for an oil change.  Oh, yes I did.  At the dealership.  Where I bought my car and the care package they offered. (Huge mistake. Slap yourself if you ever think of doing it.)  I had an appointment. Yep, an appointment.  At 10 a.m. in the morning.  Wednesday morning. (While everybody else in America should be at work or asleep or yelling at their pharmacist for not getting their prescription (do you want your prescription right, or right now?)  ready in 15 minutes.  Apparently those tattooed hotties down there at the Jiffy Lube know some great big secret that Mr. Ford and his employees haven't been enlightened to.  Jiffy Lube can change your oil in 15 minutes or less AND vaccuum your car out as well as wipe down the windows.  Fifteen minutes or less...and there is no screaming, foot stamping, name calling, or heavy sighs involved.  They politely refer to you as Miss, smile at you, and offer you free coffee and lots of winks from their workers in the bays.  And in fifteen minutes you're back in traffic in the city of God's Waiting Room battling the masses of 80 year old's driving their Grand Marquis blindfolded.  Not so when you take your Zoom Zoom down to the dealership where you have prepaid  maintenaine for the life of your car.  Here you have time to do eight hours of continuing education, count the spider veins forming on your legs from standing 14 hours a day, and if you're lucky get a beginner lesson in a foreign language from your fellow waiting area patrons.

Today it took one hour to change my oil.  That's right one hour of my life that I'll never get back was spent waiting at the dealership for an oil change. Yep, just an oil change.  No engine light on, no funny squeaking noises to do dectective work on, no brain surgery, or bombs to deactivate. Just an oil change.  And when I politely inquired as to when my car might be ready to proceed into battle again on the roadways the Manager looked at me, tilted his head like a new puppy confused at why you're  mad at him for chewing a shoe, and replied, "Ma'am, it takes a lot more time than you know to complete an oil change."  Slap me. I'm not a mechanic but seriously?  And then he says, "After reveiwing your records from last time, it looks like we got you out a lot quicker this time."  Three months ago I was there for one hour and forty-five minutes for scheduled oil change.  Ummmm....Thank you?

1 comment:

  1. Cute blog Nicole!! Found you through Annie's and can't wait to read more! This post made me laugh, why do our men always get done with these things quicker??