Monday afternoon I took my car to Coggin Chevy in Kissimmee, FL to have the oil changed and the tires rotated… I had planned to leave to come back to Pittsburgh at 5:00 am Tuesday. After my oil change, I drove to Epcot (about ten miles away) and spent the day drinking heavily in the Florida sun. At 7:30, with my buzz wearing off, and a Rose and Crown cottage pie sitting in my stomach like lead, we decided to leave Epcot and go to Downtown Disney (two miles away) to do some shopping…
My fucking oil light, on my fucking brand new car, with 9000 fucking miles on it, fucking came on.
I pulled into the parking lot near Planet Hollywood and checked my dipstick. Bone fucking dry. Astounded, I checked it again, just to make sure I wasn’t in the grips of some Stella Artois-induced madness. Dry dipstick again. So I look under the car and see that the entire underside of my car is covered in oil.
I called Coggin Chevy. They told me I was screwed until the morning. I told them that was unacceptable, and that if they provided a tow and access to a lift, I’d fix my own fucking car. The sales manager told me it wasn’t his responsibility and if I had a problem to sue them.
So I called Suzuki Roadside and they had a tow truck to my car in under a half-hour. The next morning, Fountain Suzuki (who, if they were in the phone book at the condo, i would have gone to in the first place) called me up and let me know that Chevy put the wrong oil filter on my car. It didn’t even fit. They even took pictures and laughed at how inept Chevy mechanics are.
So I left later than I’d wanted to, and as a result ended up staying in Columbia, SC overnight… but the Suzuki is fine.
The service manager at Chevy paid me for their ridiculous mistake. The parts guy who provided the filter complained that it’s not his fault “because that there Suzuki ain’t no GM”… :ugh: …glad he knows his company’s product.
Unrelated:
I drank a shitload of imported beers… our vacation coincided with some kind of Wine and Beer festival at Epcot. Franziskaner Weisse owns my soul. While I downed bratwurst by the pound, I drank quarts of the Franziskaner Weisse… tastier beer I have never had. Stella Artois was pretty good, and Kronenbourg 1664 was alright. I drank some Irish Meade… forgot the name… but it was excellent… and O’Mara’s Irish Creme kicks the fuck out of Bailey’s.
Food? The Biergarten had an awesome buffet… I swallowed more sausage than Darkstar does on road trips to Rehobeth… and the Rose and Crown’s cottage pie is about 14oz of ground beef in a bowl, heated, with mashed potatoes on top… very tasty… but when you’re too shitfaced to realise when you’re getting full, it’s not a food you want to be eating.
And I blew off the sway bar thing. I just don’t care. I have a house to worry about, and a career that I’ll be starting in a couple weeks… I’ll worry about car performance when I’ve settled into my “grown up job” and I start making some disposable income.
:gives: