In June 2016 I took my car to my mechanic. I felt a bit of a shake in the wheel. I was in the Monday suit because it was Monday and I was on the way to work. He came out with a look of concern.
“Where did you drive this from?” I had just come from a weekend at my Mom’s place, 55 miles up north.
“The family spot,” I said matter of factly. “You know. I stay up north every once in a while. Help Mom out with errands and groceries.”
“Didn’t you feel the wobble?” Their eyes widened. His apprentice had joined him.
There was a spot on route 8 south where you could just open up. There was no place for the police to hide. On a good day, like that day, I would drop from fifth to third gear and the Saab would roar to life. She would jump from 70 to 100 miles per hour in a matter of seconds. That morning there had been a bit of a shake.
“Yes, I felt a little wobble,” I said, neglecting to mention the 100 mile an hour morning. “That’s why I’m here. Is it another bald spot on the tire? Are we at threads already?”
It had been 4 years and 92,000 miles. The majority of the service had been oil changes. This was the replacement, the in between car. The engine had blown on the first Saab due to overwork and general neglect. I felt obligated to get it fixed because my lack of maintenance was the reason the engine blew in the first place.
Three weeks after the repairs were done, it was destroyed by a tree on a back road in northwestern Connecticut.
The car between Saabs was a Nissan Altima. That car ran for 4 years and 104,000 hard highway miles. This was when I first experienced the shake due to tire wear. The Altima did what it was supposed to do until it didn’t and eventually couldn’t. This car, this inexpensive little Saab, was supposed to be a holdover until I could afford the car I wanted. 4 years and 92,000 miles later, I still wasn’t there.
“You’ve got to come see this,” the mechanic said, shaking his head.
New tires for the Saab were $600. If I could get away with replacing the two bald tires today for $300, I’d be back in a month to get the other two when I had some more space open on the credit card.
I walked onto the shop floor. The tires didn’t really look all that bad.
“See this?” He walked over to the front driver’s side tire and gave it a good shake. It was solid. No movement.
“Yep.” I said.
He walked over to the passenger’s side front tire.
“You see this?” He barely touched it. The whole wheel wobbled.
“Oh shit,” I whispered through my teeth.
“If you hit a pot hole just right, this wheel will fly off. 2 of your brake pads are at 3%, 1 is at 10% and one is at 5%.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because your back right brake is frozen open.”
“I,” I started
“You’re e-brake is disconnected.”
I felt my shoulders drop.
“What are we looking at?”
“Give me a few minutes to write this up.”
My shoulders were at my knees.
I went back and sat in the lobby. I immediately began looking for cars online. As much as I loved this car, it had only cost me $2800. It was supposed to be the holdover car. It had taken me back and forth to work for a solid 4 years and had taken 92,000 miles of craziness. As much as I loved the car, there had to be limits. I couldn’t justify, let alone afford, more than $600.
“We can have you up and running for $1800.”
I heard the laughter before I realized it was me. “Can I get it home?”
His eyes widened. “The tire could fly off.”
“Not up north,” I clarified. “The local spot.”
“I mean you can but, I really wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I … I,” I stammered over my words. I was in the suit. What I was about to say didn’t make sense. “I just don’t have it. I don’t have $1800 to spend on a $2800 car that will need another $1500 in 6 months.”
He looked at me with the eyes of a man who just lost a sale but he also seemed genuinely worried.
“Yes, you can get it home, but DON’T take the highway and, for god’s sake, don’t go over 35.”
I just wanted to make sure I could get home. I didn’t have to head back north for a little while. I had a local place to park the car and lay my head. Once I got there and took a few deep breaths, I could take time to make time to make a delicate decision without an immediate sense of urgency upon me.
The suit and Saab may have been solid but they hid the fact that if I hit even the smallest bump in the road, the wheels would fall off.
“The family spot,” I said matter of factly. “You know. I stay up north every once in a while. Help Mom out with errands and groceries.”
“Didn’t you feel the wobble?” Their eyes widened. His apprentice had joined him.
There was a spot on route 8 south where you could just open up. There was no place for the police to hide. On a good day, like that day, I would drop from fifth to third gear and the Saab would roar to life. She would jump from 70 to 100 miles per hour in a matter of seconds. That morning there had been a bit of a shake.
“Yes, I felt a little wobble,” I said, neglecting to mention the 100 mile an hour morning. “That’s why I’m here. Is it another bald spot on the tire? Are we at threads already?”
It had been 4 years and 92,000 miles. The majority of the service had been oil changes. This was the replacement, the in between car. The engine had blown on the first Saab due to overwork and general neglect. I felt obligated to get it fixed because my lack of maintenance was the reason the engine blew in the first place.
Three weeks after the repairs were done, it was destroyed by a tree on a back road in northwestern Connecticut.
The car between Saabs was a Nissan Altima. That car ran for 4 years and 104,000 hard highway miles. This was when I first experienced the shake due to tire wear. The Altima did what it was supposed to do until it didn’t and eventually couldn’t. This car, this inexpensive little Saab, was supposed to be a holdover until I could afford the car I wanted. 4 years and 92,000 miles later, I still wasn’t there.
“You’ve got to come see this,” the mechanic said, shaking his head.
New tires for the Saab were $600. If I could get away with replacing the two bald tires today for $300, I’d be back in a month to get the other two when I had some more space open on the credit card.
I walked onto the shop floor. The tires didn’t really look all that bad.
“See this?” He walked over to the front driver’s side tire and gave it a good shake. It was solid. No movement.
“Yep.” I said.
He walked over to the passenger’s side front tire.
“You see this?” He barely touched it. The whole wheel wobbled.
“Oh shit,” I whispered through my teeth.
“If you hit a pot hole just right, this wheel will fly off. 2 of your brake pads are at 3%, 1 is at 10% and one is at 5%.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because your back right brake is frozen open.”
“I,” I started
“You’re e-brake is disconnected.”
I felt my shoulders drop.
“What are we looking at?”
“Give me a few minutes to write this up.”
My shoulders were at my knees.
I went back and sat in the lobby. I immediately began looking for cars online. As much as I loved this car, it had only cost me $2800. It was supposed to be the holdover car. It had taken me back and forth to work for a solid 4 years and had taken 92,000 miles of craziness. As much as I loved the car, there had to be limits. I couldn’t justify, let alone afford, more than $600.
“We can have you up and running for $1800.”
I heard the laughter before I realized it was me. “Can I get it home?”
His eyes widened. “The tire could fly off.”
“Not up north,” I clarified. “The local spot.”
“I mean you can but, I really wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I … I,” I stammered over my words. I was in the suit. What I was about to say didn’t make sense. “I just don’t have it. I don’t have $1800 to spend on a $2800 car that will need another $1500 in 6 months.”
He looked at me with the eyes of a man who just lost a sale but he also seemed genuinely worried.
“Yes, you can get it home, but DON’T take the highway and, for god’s sake, don’t go over 35.”
I just wanted to make sure I could get home. I didn’t have to head back north for a little while. I had a local place to park the car and lay my head. Once I got there and took a few deep breaths, I could take time to make time to make a delicate decision without an immediate sense of urgency upon me.
The suit and Saab may have been solid but they hid the fact that if I hit even the smallest bump in the road, the wheels would fall off.
No comments:
Post a Comment