|Everything and Nothing|
So, those of you who have been listening up on this debacle with Honda will know that yesterday (09/12/09) I picked up my car and unto my knowledge I had no idea what was to proceed the half baked smiles and seemingly soul crushing handshakes.
When I picked up the car yesterday, I was assured that there wouldn’t be a problem with the car and that everything was in order. What the hell do I know, I’m a social commentator…how would I know what has been replaced and what hasn’t. I handed over the courtesy car which I was slowly but surely falling in love with with every turn of its key.
I climbed into my own, feeling somewhat alien behind a wheel of a car I almost wanted to forget. Everything felt wrong or was it my subconscious playing on my mind forcing my senses to over analyze every single bump, tick, squeak and rattle in the car as I drove off. The bastards even managed to give me back my car with 1km of petrol left in it…thanks tossers!!! Driving off I felt this feeling of relief, satisfaction and a glimmer of ecstasy that it was over…the pain, the anxiety, the stress was over. It was finally done and the next time I’d have to see this sorry excuse for a service station would be at my next service…in another 30 000kms or so…(I had celebrated too soon)…
This morning, reeling with contentment from the previous day and evenings success as I even managed to take our weekly poker evening with the boys (I have not won in what seems literally months)…I climb in my unfamiliar front seat, turn the key and push my start button which resembles a dull ruby…she starts……………..
THE.LIGHTS.THE F*CKING LIGHTS. THOSE GOD DAMN F*CKING LIGHTS.
It is pain, anguish, anxiety and utter rage all over again. I sat staring at my steering wheel for the next 30 minutes. I had to, if I had taken to the road I would have taken it out on the car, myself or whom ever I thought worthy of a serious head on collision. Yes, I felt like killing. Scary but not unbelievable for somewhat who is not considered a morning person. I hate mornings…and this one was no different.
I make my way to Honda cursing and swerving “my bitch” at random cars and pedestrians along the way. My rage was insurmountable and all the way in the back recesses of my mind I could hear a voice telling me to calm the f*ck down, it’s just a car, it’s their problem…relax!
“F*CK YOU LITTLE VOICE THAT COULD” —> yes, it was an internal strife, don’t judge me!
As I pulled up to the Honda Service Station, I had the incredible urge to follow up on my “pseudo threats” to drive my car through, not the doors, but through the showroom windows and onto the showroom floor. The urge was an incredible rush, it made me heated, physically hot all over! I felt like I was going to black out as I stopped breathing for I don’t know how long.
I ask for “
King Dick“”The Service King” and patiently waited at the seating area on the showroom floor. Yes, I waited, didn’t kick, scream or perform…I waited, silently, ready to pounce on the first troll to offer me a lift or a cup of tea —> GRRRR!!! —> I’m pathetic, I know…
He finally finds time out of his, apparently tremendously busy schedule to see me.
“Good Morning Sir (“Sir”, I love that shit…I wanted to scream, now roll over and play dead!)” he said almost surprised to see me.
“Hello”, I replied, steely, cold and ready to pounce.
“What seems to be the problem?” The Service King asked
“What do you think?” I answered, almost interrupting him.
“No, I can’t believe it, it’s impossible, it should have worked itself out now” said The Service King.
“Umm…no, it’s still f*cked” I snapped, he now knows I mean business.
To cut this story somewhat short – because I’m actually finding this quite draining – is that he took the car back into the bellows of the cesspit and returned approximately an hour later. Yes an hour, by that time I had waged war on the irritations beauty therapists call cuticles. I have none let.
He handed over the keys reassuring me that he had reset the CPU (which these prats had done previously) and told me that “everything should be in order”. I cannot tell you off hand what I will do tomorrow if I have to go through this again.
I am refusing to write another complaint through HelloPeter because of the magnanimous admin that that website puts you through just to lay a complaint about the accused. As much as I want to, I can’t say “that these trolls better have gotten it right this time or I’ll…”…yah, what can I do but bend over and take it up the tail pipe all over again???
Until tomorrow, this is David, the anal receiving Honda driver, painfully signing off.