Fucking Dealership Blew My Cover

I have a puny percentage of oil life left in my car.  Last time I was blindsided when it went down to ... 5%?  0%?  Anyway, I kind of flipped out in my car when I was driving ... uh, maybe it happened last week where it went from 15% (which is the point where the warning automatically shows up on the instrument panel) to 10% after, like, a week.

I vacillated as to when I would finally bring it in.  Grandmother's death pushed up my initial hope that I would do it when it got down to 5% because I'm a rebel.  Now I had to do it before I leave for Hong Kong in case my folks want to use the car while I'm gone; I don't want them to flip out at seeing 10% or 5% on the dash.  I made a reservation for the day before I had to leave, but I remembered that I had a coupon for the oil change part of the service (they also have to rotate the tires) which expires today, June 30.  So I changed it to noon today.

When I was eating dinner last (Thursday) night with my folks Mother reminded me of the appointment.  WHA-WHA-WHAAAATT?!?!?!  The goddamn dealership, for some goddamn reason, called the landline to remind me of the appointment.  Why they did that, I have no fucking clue.  Well, I did give them the home phone -- but only as a back-up, in case something serious happened as they looked at my car, for example, and they couldn't reach my cell, which I know I designated as my primary number.  But I never got a call yesterday/Thursday about the appointment.  Someone who wasn't paying any attention just called home instead.

And so that just totally fucking blew my cover.  They now know that I have something planned in the middle of what is supposed to be my workday.  I know for a fact that they now wonder if I am actually going to work tomorrow -- and if I actually go to work at all.  Of course, I'm not, but I didn't think the fucking dealership would rat me out.  My God, this could result in a whole host of bullshit questions I didn't want to deal with, based on getting made in the most unlikely way possible.

I want to scream at the first person at the dealership I see.  I'll just demand that they delete the phone number off their record as soon as I get in instead.  And hope that my parents don't fucking ask any more questions about it.