James worked on his car late into the night on Wednesday trying to get it ready for the exchange of radiators. Thursday I had to wake him up to take me to work on the off chance that he didn't get his car repaired and would need a way to school. He wasn't very excited about being woke up before six thirty in the morning but he didn't complain knowing the circumstances. It was easy for me to find a way home being that one of my coworkers lives very close to me. It was only later that I was informed that I could have borrowed my dad's car and not had to ask anyone. As it was though, this insured James getting up early to work on his car.
I spoke to him around eleven in the morning and he told me that his car was repaired. When I spoke with his dad about an hour later I was informed that no the car wasn't repaired. I called James to get a garbled explanation that had something to do with oil. Hearing the frustration in his voice and knowing that he was fighting traffic trying to get to school I didn't try tog et a better explanation. I knew I could always find out when he got home that night.
My ride home was interesting in itself. At five foot-ten inches (I'm keeping that inch all y'all doctors and who ever that say I'm not that tall)and 143 pounds, I'm not an Amazon by any means. However, the truck that my coworker drives sure made me feel like one. To say its small inside is an understatement. Riding with one's knees tucked under their chin is an experience everyone should have at least once. At the edge of my driveway I unfolded myself out of his truck and waved him on. It would take me a while to get all my muscles stretched back out- and it is only a short ride home from work.
When James came in that night I found out what happened. He had his car repaired. He had the radiator swapped out, everything reattached. It was ready. All that it needed was about a half a quart of transmission fluid added to replace the little he had lost in the exchange. Sadly.. the person he asked to do this for him instead of transmission fluid poured in thirty weight motor oil. Here I'm not sure whether James caught it immediately or not, but I know that the car never left the building where he was working on it. This mistake meant more down time for the car, more money spent on parts needing replacing. Another day of driving my explorer to school. Have I mentioned that James drives a 1997 (I think) Dodge Intrepid which gets much better gas mileage than my 99, four door, Ford Explorer- the mid size one..around here I can get by usually on $20 a week in gas because I simply don't drive that much. This was killing me paying for the gas for James to drive to school.
Friday I borrowed Dad's something or 'nother SUV and drove to work. James got his car ready for the new transmission filter and fluids. He would get the filter from the parts place at school and the fluids on the way home. After work I immediately headed over to get my new glasses, something that was ready Thursday but I couldn't go after due to lack of transportation. Returning dad's car I came back tot he house and made myself at home. All the things I could be doing such as grocery shopping would have to wait-but I really didn't mind. It had been a tough week.
When James got home he told me he hadn't been able to get the transmission fluid and would have to head over to the great and powerful Wal Mart. He also needed more money. I wonder if he thinks there is a money tree growing in our back yard? Forking over a few more dollars I reminded him that he was going to get the pleasure of taking my explorer to get it inspected...that's due as well. It never ends does it?
But then, it also keeps us challenged, far from bored and out of trouble..
As it is, James's car is still sitting in the building, waiting to be finished, the explorer is waiting to be inspected-after I fork over more money for gas and I'm waiting for the particular adventure to be over...
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