Do You Love Me? (Part 2)

I was visiting The West Virginia Surf Report today where he talked about taking his Blazer into the shop for its annual check-up (it might have been Friday's post) and it reminded me of my Escort. Back in 1996 I was in the process of moving to San Francisco. I wasn't taking my car with me, but living in Detroit I did need a car until the day I left, which of course means it started acting up, specifically, the transmission. I was moving mid-September and this was mid-August. For some reason, instead of taking it to my normal mechanic, I decided to take it to a transmission place. The hucksters at the transmission called me a few hours later to tell me that my transmission was shot and that it needed to be replaced at a tune of hundreds upon hundreds of dollars. This was news that made me happy as I didn't have hundreds upon hundreds to waste on a car I was only going to drive for another month.

Huckster tells me that if I wanted he would be happy to help me out and buy the car off me for a super discounted price (as the transmission was shot) and since he's in the business he could replace it for less money, blah blah blah, etc. I tell him that's not in the least bit feasible as I do need a car to get around for the next four weeks. I tell him not to touch my car and hung up. I then called my mechanic and they said to bring it in. I picked up my poor car and took it where I should have taken it in the first place. They called me a few hours later to say that the transmission was fine, since it was an automatic it needed to be flushed. They flushed it, replaced the transmission fluid for less than $100 and I was on my way. I probably should have called the Better Business Bureau on those shylocks at the transmission place, but I didn't.