That, I reckon, is the good news. The bad news ... well, turns out the cost to fix what was ailing my car isn't that bad. But the reason, according to the mechanic, as to why my dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree on Monday is, of all things, it needed an oil change. Now I am not sure if even they know if what they did was the right fix. But they said that the engine light code that was spat out had something to do with the camshaft or the crankshaft, and there was a timing issue that made the actuator go out of phase ... honestly, when he tried to explain it to me, nearly the whole damn thing flew over my head. The thing I think I got is that the oil pressure got so low that the timing of ... uh, something got out of whack.
And then he started in on the oil. He said it was running a quarter low, which doesn't sound bad to me, and it was quite dirty. Hell, the dashboard indicator didn't say it was time to change it. But this is where the car mechanic (who owns the place, by the way) started to admonish me about lazily depending on the car to tell me when to get its oil change and not the sticker he routinely puts on the top of my windshield.
Unfortunately for me, this is not the first time I ran into trouble with him regarding checking my oil. Two visits ago he informed me that the reason I heard shaking noises from my car was because it had no oil left in the engine. So he made me paranoid to check it. I did, religiously. I even threw in a quart once when it looked like it had only 25% left, and subsequent dipstick checks made me think that I in fact overfilled it. And now he tells me losing a quarter of the oil that could be in my engine is enough to signal all these indicator lights? Get out of here with that.
He was not done lecturing me. He says the tires are worn out, too. Now, ****e*, the stripper who cleaned my house a couple weeks ago, said the same thing. I checked the tread and thought I could last another year, or before next winter. But he made the executive decision to rotate the tires because what once were the front tires are at the bare minimum of usefulness (even in perfect weather). "I drive my car hard," he says. I don't think I drive it farther or harder than anyone else. Besides, I use my car to, you know, live my life. What's the saying? "A ship in harbour is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." (John A. Shedd, in 1928.)
So my car maintenance, according to him, isn't enough. I need to bring my car in for oil changes more frequently, I guess. And shoot, maybe the tires need to be changed sooner rather than later. Oh, and when I come in pick up my car this morning, he is going to give me some reading material to take with. I think he said it was a Technical Service Bulletin, or TSB. There's more stuff that needs to be fixed? Or is it another thing my mechanic thinks I should do even though there's a chance I won't do it?
Either I'm going to give in to whatever he thinks should be done to the car and bring it in before my parents come home, or I won't see him again until the indicator lights come back on, whether it be next week or six months from now. When I come back might depend on how badly he talks down to me. Man, if this guy were a dentist, he'd condescend to me about not brushing my teeth twice a day.
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