The Blue Light Of Gloom Dear Blog:
After work yesterday, Howie drove me back to Charlie's Auto Shop. On the way there, he talked about his addiction to sugar babies ("I can't get enough of 'em!"), his opinion about mp3 players ("Who needs a freakin' iPod? My old Sony Walkman works just fine."), his idea of patriotism ("Any American who vacations out of the country is a traitor!"), his all-time favorite TV show ("I wish that they'd bring back 'Murder She Wrote'"), his susceptibility to peer pressure ("One time, I ate six live goldfish on a dare"), and who knows what else? I stopped listening at some point for the sake of my sanity.

I couldn't wait to get my car back so I could commute in peace.

When we got to Charlie's, Charlie was busy with another customer, so I had to wait.

Howie said, "You want me to wait around in case there's a problem."

"No, I'm sure it's fine," I said, as I looked around for my car.

Howie said, "I'll wait."

Then I noticed that my car was up on a lift. This is never a good sign.

When Charlie was finished with his customer, he asked me to come with him as he led me into the garage and towards my suspended car.

Charlie says, "I replaced the brake pads like I told you. Then I ran some computer diagnostics, but I kept getting wierd readings. He puts his hand on the inner part of the wheels, and tells me to do the same. I do as he says. "You feel the new brake pads?," Charlie asks. I tell him I do. Charlie says, "Now feel up towards the top of the brake pad, for a little round plastic thing. I tell him I feel it. He says, "That's the brake pad sensor. I think that is what is giving me the bad readings. It's always advisable to replace the brake pad sensors when you replace the break pads anyway."

I ask him why he didn't just do it then. He said he didn't have any on hand, but he can have some sent over the following day. He says the car is fine to drive, so I can take it home and bring it back in at my convenience, or I can leave the car with him, and he'll replace the brake pad sensors the following day.

I look outside and see Howie waiting in his car.

I say, "I'll take the car now."

Charlie asks me when I'll be bringing it back. I ask him to give me a minute while I talk to my ride.

I explain the situation to Howie, and Howie says, "Why don't you just leave it here and I'll pick you up from your place tomorrow?"

I tell him I don't want to.

Howie says, "Fine, so you want me to meet you here again tomorrow morning?"

This guy is so eager to please, if only he would shut up once in a while.

I say, "That'll be fine. Thanks."

Howie says, "OK, buddy, see you tomorrow then."

With my spirits crushed, I go back to Charlie and tell him I'll be back the next morning. Charlie then asks one of his guys to get my car off the lift. To me, Charlie says, "Come back to the office so we can settle up for the brake pads."

Charlie pulls my paperwork off a wall-mounted rack, and proceeds to make an unusually big production adding up some figures on an old calculator.

Finally, Charlie says, "It comes to $187.57. Let's just call it an even $187," which he follows up with a smile.

I said, "$187 to replace the break pads? You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention that two of the wheel cylinders were leaking and had to be replaced."

I said, "Damn, Charlie, you better not be ripping me off."

He said, "Come on, Bern, if you can't trust me with your car, who can you trust?"

I wasn't happy about it, but I paid him with my credit card.

As I left, he said, "See you in the morning, and say hello to your Dad for me."

I said, "Fine, but it'll cost you $187." Charlie laughed. Little did he know, I wasn't trying to be funny.

I had a hunch this problem with the car was going to be a big one, and that hunch still loomed over my head like a big dark storm cloud waiting to unleash its fury on me.

As if nature were trying to drive the point home, it started to downpour as I pulled away from Charlie's garage, but I barely noticed. I was too distracted by the blue light reading "ABS" shining on my dashboard.

You ever have one of those lives?
- Bernie  ¶ 6:46 PM