While the rest of the world is cranking about the price of going anywhere in the car, my immediate concern is stopping. So, I'm off to go get new brakes all around on the vehicle this morning.
With the "mountainous" terrain here in Appalachia, good brakes are a necessity--and they don't last long. I feel fortunate to have gotten 45,000 miles out of the last brake job. But it still hurts financially, and it means spending my Monday in a greasy, bad smelling, auto repair facility, marking time and waiting.
I'm the kind of person who believes you should be able to buy a car, put gas in it, change the oil every 5,000 miles, and that should be the extent of it. Tires? Brakes? Struts? It's all just a big pain in the patoot, if you ask me. Strangely, the hardest part for me is dealing with the men in the auto parts stores. They are so painfully condescending. They can barely contain their contempt. They try to show off and tell you how much they know, and how pitifully little you know about cars. It's like being back in high school and having to pretend to be interested in this stuff. Am I reading too much into this?
This time, refreshingly, Bob at Auto Zone managed to get through the business of ordering pads, shoes, drums, and rotors without smirking or telling me that no, what I really wanted was something other than what I told him I wanted. I had the vocabulary, and I had da skills. And Bob didn't give me any trouble or attitude. Thanks Bob, you made the sale!
I'll go pick up the parts and then take them to Dan, who will install everything for a mere $75.
What a deal! All it takes from then on is time and patience.
There's my metaphor.
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