My car has been acting up lately; it doesn’t like to start the first time. Or the second, third, and sometimes as much as twelfth time either. Friday afternoon when it was time to go home from work I actually just gave up on the car and had Jeff come get me. We left the car there overnight, and hitched a ride to Syracuse to borrow a car from Jeff’s dad (Jeff’s car needs it’s brakes fixed too, so while it’s okay to drive it a little bit we really shouldn’t rely on it right now). Saturday morning we went back up to the car and fought with it until it started, and drove it straight to the mechanic. $217 and about 4 hours later and the car was back in business! It’s got a new starter now and it starts on the first try. Every time! I’m seriously all like whoa. But anyway, this post is really just a love letter to our new mechanic person. Who not only works nights and weekends (he’s just starting out so he’s got a day job and does this after hours), but is polite and friendly, and thankful for the work. You know? And, seriously, like whoa. We called him Friday night and he was able to not only look at it the next day, but actually get the job done, which never would have happened where we used to take the cars. Plus he didn’t make fun of the fact that my car is 15 years old, or make me feel like I was putting him out by having the gall to call him when I needed car repairs.

So I’m a little bitter. My old mechanic seemed like a nice guy, but now that I’ve found someone who’s actually grateful for the business, and has, like, customer service skills (ohmygod imagine that!) I’m realizing how much better I could have had it all these years. Sigh. Oh the missed opportunities. Let’s have a moment of silence in memory of all the cash that could have passed into more worthy hands.