Friday, September 30, 2011

Day 273 - Pebble

As I arrived to work this morning, my car started to make a weird screeching noise. While it seemed minor, it sent me into what I swear was an immediate panic attack. Near tears, I walked to my desk and worked to collect myself all while reviewing my recent bad luck cases. "WHAT NOW?", I thought to myself, "I can't take one more thing going wrong in my life at this moment!". If there is one thing I need in this world, it's reliable transportation, as I am not the girl who wants to play the role of damsel in distress along the road side! (no matter how cute I think I am.)

I quickly researched "screeching car" on the internet and found that the likely cause of the noise may be the brakes, or something of that nature. I immediately called the dealer for a price inquiry and an appointment. Upon driving to my appointment the screeching became worse and I was mortified to be seen driving my car. I might as well have been driving the pink, Ford pick-up truck (a junker) from the '70's sitcom, "Sanford & Son" or the likes of the vehicle below.

Once I pulled into the service bay, I found all eyes were on me and the clunker. "That's not brakes" one gentleman stated immediately as I exited my car. My reply was, "Well, what is it? I'm on a limited budget here!". He smiled as he called out the mechanic and asked me, "Have you driven it in reverse today?". I replied, "No." as I watched the mechanic walk towards my car. He muttered something unintelligible about something stuck and a vacuum which only added to my panic. As he started my car and backed it out of the service garage, I was ready to crawl under a table as the screeching noise hit an all time high. I cringed as all the faces around me contorted. The sound of metal on metal screeching, like nails on a chalkboard, filled the building. I was sure the mechanic had backed over a lone Velociraptor and it was now using it's talons to claw it's way out from under the wheels of my car! I went to sit in the waiting room as my car was driven away, with surely, an angry dinosaur in tow.

It seemed as though only a minute or two went by, but Matt the Mechanic had already reappeared with my now quiet car. With no signs of dinosaur damage, he walked up to me and held something out in his hand for me to take. He wished me a good day, and stated that my visit was free of charge. As I looked down in the palm of my hand, this is what I saw...

The pebble, not the paperclip, was stuck between my rotor and brake pad, or where ever it is Matt said it was stuck. Nothing like my car having a case of "The Pea and the Princess" syndrome. I'm thankful that this trip to the auto shop was nothing more then an inconvenience!

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