Day 247 - That petrol emotion

So for all you bjigglerettes out there who have been on baited tenderhooks wondering if my car will ever see the light of day following its petrol leak, I can now bring you all the closure you have been waiting so long for. At the end of the last installment I had the car booked into the garage and was having to get lifts of various assorted friends, hangers on and taxi companies so that I didn't leave a trail of petrol all over the roads of Scotland. On the Wednesday morning I set off to the garage and parked it out front when I got there. I went into the office and waited to be served. One of the guy's that recommended the garage to me said the main reason for recomending them was that the guy who ran it looked like a pirate and soon enough in walked a guy who looked like a pirate. So I knew there an then that I had indeed made the correct choice of garage. There was no way that a guy who ran a garage and looked like a pirate was going to fleece me. I told him who I was and that following our phone call to discuss the problem I was bring ing the car in. "Ok" he said, "when do you want it back?" I told him I was having a long weekend (going away thursday and back next tuesday) and thought it was likely to take ages to fix as it may involve having to order specialised parts so basically I would be prepared to wait as long as it took. I then said "shall I show you where the leak is?" to which he responed "no". So I said "well please will you ring me as soon as you know what needs doing?" He said "yes" so I headed off to the nearest bus stop to catch a bus into work (so we'd better add buses to that earlier list of modes of transport). While I was waiting for the bus I began to worry. Because I said I would be away until next Tuesday he probably wasn't even going to start looking at the car until then, and then I'm going to have to order parts and get them delivered to the garage and then he's probably going to find that there is so much rust on the car that there is nothing to fit the new parts to, and I'd have to spend weeks getting lifts of all my friends, hangers on, taxis and buses (and ok I haven't really got any hangers on, but it makes me feel good to think I have). I began wishing I had said I needed the car back immediately and hadn't mentioned that I would be having a long weekend. In fact the only thing I had left to cling onto was the fact that he looked like a pirate so things might not turn out to be quite so bad.

Anyway the bus took exactly 1 hour to get me to work - if I had been in a car it would have taken about 10 minutes, but the bus decided it was going to take the most windy and laborious route it could. During the remainder of the day I was told by a number of people that I should definately have said I needed the car straight back and I wouldn't be seeing it for ages now. Each time my phone rang I thought thats them ringing to tell me I need a new petrol tank and its going to cost £5000 and take 8 months to fix. But they didn't ring and I ended up getting a lift home from a kindly collegue.

The next morning the garage still hadn't rung, and I also needed to arrange a lift to the airport after lunch now that I was carless. I sent an eamil around the office to see if anyone was going around about the time I was that could give me a lift. I got a number of offers back, but they were all leaving at such a time that would make me at risk of missing my flight, so I thought I'd better just book a taxi. At around 12:00ish went into the corridor (which is the only place I can get a hint of a signal on my mobile phone) and decided as the garage still hadn't rung I would ring them to see if they had got around to having a look at it yet. The pirate guy answered and I asked if they were in a position to tell me the worst about my car yet. He said "didn't you get the messge I left on your phone? We've fixed your car and its ready to collect". I was completely taken aback and aked how much it would cost. The reply was £40. I was amazed, but now I needed some way to get t9o the garage to pick up the car, and I couldn't take the bus becuase that wuold make me too late to catch my flight. Luckily Al came to the rescue and drove me down to the garage. He even filled up his bivvy can with petrol to make sure I would have enough to get me to the garage (you can see why he is such a hit with the ladies).

So I had manged to get my car back quicker than I could have hoped for and it had only cost me £40. So as far as I'm concerned you can't go wrong if you take you car to a garage where the guy running it looks like a pirate.