Went to yell at the VW people for not fixing my car today. Showed them, actually showed them the problem instead of leaving them the car and letting them find it based on my description. Turns out it's been consuming more oil than a Mack truck. It doesn't leak out of the pan, so I have no puddle under my car and it doesn't get low enough to set off alarms, but that clicking I've been complaining about is the valve lifters running dry. All these repairs have probably treated the symptoms of the oil system failure without revealing the true disease.
I take it in Thursday. Hopefully I'll have my baby back Friday. I gotta have it Saturday. The Volkswagen is the symbol of my social life. It allows me to have a job, to make use of the high demand for caring bastards, to see Sarah. I carry my mind in my head, but my soul is wrapped in two tons of black steel.
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Now playing on iTunes: The Wombats - Let's Dance To Joy Division
via FoxyTunes
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1 comment:
I've said it one and I'll say it again: Mexicans aren't designed to build cars based on German designs:
German Instructions for Car Building: Richtungsschritt Fünfhundert: Fügen Sie das Rad der Achse bei.
....
Mexican Laborer: Que?
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