For the 2nd time in a month, I took Jack back to the shop yesterday.

She got a new CD player that doesn’t eat anything and had her shoes looked at again because since I brought her home a year ago, she’s had a “shimmy” at certian speeds. Usually 50 (which only encourages me to drive faster, thanks), but since she’s fickle it randomly appears at other speeds. They’ve been rotated, balanced, aligned, dismounted and remounted to within an inch of her life.

I call around 2 to see if Chip got her straightened out and he says “well you know, my guys couldn’t replicate the problem, they took her out on 400 and she was fine”.

Here’s what kills me about that. You Atlantans already know, don’t you?

That’s right, there’s no EFFING way they took her on 400 and drove 50, GA400 is known as The Atlanta Speedway and if you’re on it during the day and don’t want to get run off the road, you’re going at least 70. It’s a given.

Nice try, Chip…but you have to actually LISTEN to me. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Jackasses.

So I picked her up, had a short talk with the Service Director and rushed off into the night to meet A for our writing session/production planning for next week. Coming home I had time to verify that my stereo no longer eats CD’s, but my left turn signal has stepped up the tempo by 2x. It’s like she ate a metric ass load of sugar and started stuttering at me. blinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblinkblink

What the hell is that and why can’t things just…work?