From the Makers of Cars...
I am not a car person.
In fact, the things strike me as an amazing money-sink. A sort of society-induced punishment for not living in a large city.
Specifically, I hate car maintenance. I have never taken a car in for an oil/filter change and not have the mechanic find at least $300 more work that needed to be done. Ever. I have also never been to a shop that hasn't belabored an issue simply because I'm female.
What? You don't want brand new tires? Well, you have a vagina so let me ask you three more times just to be sure.
Okay, I know this isn't exactly new territory. Women have been complaining about crappy service at car shops since the dawn of automotive time. But this most recent trip was a real low-of-low points.
The guy was clearly new. He acted nervous and was overly polite. After doing the cursory inspection and looking at my order he added on a transmission fluid change, power steering fluid change, brake fluid change, 2 new tires, and new wiper blades.
Shit-fire and damnation, boy! What on Earth makes you think someone would agree to that!?! Half of that crap is unnecessary, and any idiot can change their own wiper blades. The transmission fluid did need to be changed though--it was waaaay overdue.
Dealership shops are also bad for coming to you halfway through the job and finding more things--usually filters. He did. He also harped on the tires again. (Yeah, you keep reaching for the brass ring.) Indecently, for the life of me I don't know why replacing the engine filter is cheaper than the cabin filter. Particularly on a Civic. The cabin filter is right behind the glove box. You can change the thing in five seconds, no joke. But some how the cabin filter is easily $20 more than the engine filter.
(More to the point, I can just change it myself. The filter costs, at the most $15.)
Any way, more waiting and then check-out. He saw me at one point drawing and so made a weak attempt at flattery before going on about the tires again. I strain myself trying not to roll my eyes. Finally he leaves so I can pay my bill and leave.
See you in 10,000 miles.
In fact, the things strike me as an amazing money-sink. A sort of society-induced punishment for not living in a large city.
Specifically, I hate car maintenance. I have never taken a car in for an oil/filter change and not have the mechanic find at least $300 more work that needed to be done. Ever. I have also never been to a shop that hasn't belabored an issue simply because I'm female.
What? You don't want brand new tires? Well, you have a vagina so let me ask you three more times just to be sure.
Okay, I know this isn't exactly new territory. Women have been complaining about crappy service at car shops since the dawn of automotive time. But this most recent trip was a real low-of-low points.
The guy was clearly new. He acted nervous and was overly polite. After doing the cursory inspection and looking at my order he added on a transmission fluid change, power steering fluid change, brake fluid change, 2 new tires, and new wiper blades.
Shit-fire and damnation, boy! What on Earth makes you think someone would agree to that!?! Half of that crap is unnecessary, and any idiot can change their own wiper blades. The transmission fluid did need to be changed though--it was waaaay overdue.
Dealership shops are also bad for coming to you halfway through the job and finding more things--usually filters. He did. He also harped on the tires again. (Yeah, you keep reaching for the brass ring.) Indecently, for the life of me I don't know why replacing the engine filter is cheaper than the cabin filter. Particularly on a Civic. The cabin filter is right behind the glove box. You can change the thing in five seconds, no joke. But some how the cabin filter is easily $20 more than the engine filter.
(More to the point, I can just change it myself. The filter costs, at the most $15.)
Any way, more waiting and then check-out. He saw me at one point drawing and so made a weak attempt at flattery before going on about the tires again. I strain myself trying not to roll my eyes. Finally he leaves so I can pay my bill and leave.
See you in 10,000 miles.