Last Tuesday I bought a car. A Pontiac Bonneville in fact. The test drive proved it a peppy little (well, big) grandma car – just what i need. .3 miles down the road… it lost it’s pep. The dealer sent the scary service guy down to fiddle with some knobs and we took the car back. They replaced the fuel pump, and amy went out and picked it up the next day. That night she needed some dr. pepper so i went out to my new fuel pump having car and … nothing.
They towed it back the next morning. Ever the optimist i picked it up the next day. It started fine – they had replaced the security system that locks the fuel pump. It made sense. I drove it down the street (another .3 miles) to Steak and Shake to celebrate my happy car. After dinner I went out to the car and … yeah, you guessed it. They towed it back.
The next day i spent my free time screaming on the phone and demanding my money back. Unfortunately, signed contracts and as-is warranties don’t get you very far in this country. I went in that night and picked out a Buick LeSabre. So far, it’s starts and moves and stuff so i’m appeased. Except, it’s so cold that i can’t listen to the radio because the antenna won’t come out and see it’s shadow.