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Comedy: March 23, 2016 Issue [#7542]

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Comedy


 This week: Tired-Tires, and Re-tired!
  Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥmas Author IconMail Icon
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Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

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I am thinking about a time, three years ago, when ... Well, let's put that aside for a moment and talk about Ruby. For all of you who are unfamiliar with whom Ruby, is, she is my Volvo. She is more than just a car, she’s been with me for eleven years and is quite the travel workhorse. Being an SUV, she has a great capacity for hauling stuff North and South, twice per year.


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Letter from the editor

Since Ruby has been so good to me, not to say she hasn’t had her own medical bills for me to incur, but that notwithstanding, she has given me thousands upon thousands of comfortable miles of travel. She has carried dressers, beds, sofas and other various furnishings within her roomy back, when the seats are down, or upon her roof. Yes folks, I’m in love with my car. I don’t want to get rid of her, even though she has become a little costly over the last couple of years.

Most recently, Ruby needed tires. Her two front tires were worn down after only 30,000 miles on them. I was so upset, and asked my mechanic why the tires wore out so soon? He took her in for a check-up because she was having water pump issues, and found that one of the tires' control-arm bushing thingy, or whatchamacallit, was pretty broken-up. It caused the front end alignment to go off on a tangent, thus causing the sped-up version of tire wear.
The two back tires were still well-treaded, but the front ones had to go, and an alignment was necessary as well as the bushing replacement.

My mechanic sent me to a tire specialist to do this work, in order to get the full warranty that comes with the new tires. I took his advice, set-up an appointment for the next week, since they needed to order the tires I wanted. And, my mechanic called them himself, telling him what needed to be done before the alignment, or tires could be added on, just to make sure they knew what parts would be necessary.

*Clock2* Week one:

I show up for a 1:00 p.m. appointment, and start doing the paperwork, when I questioned them how long it would take to do all the work that needed to be done.

“What other work do you need done?”

“Well, my guy, called your guys, about a part that is needed on the tire, that is rubber and worn out.”

“Oh, you need to have a bush-fitting, also?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right. My guy discovered it while working on the water pump, stuff.”

“Oh, he must have talked to Stan, who is away for a few days, and didn’t let us know anything about that. There is no way we can do all that work in today’s appointed schedule time. You’ll have to come back in about a week, after we order the proper Volvo part.”

“Another week? “

“It could be longer if the part isn't available locally. I’ll call you when it comes in. But on a good note, we do have your super-duper, warranted for 80,000 miles, tires, waiting here to be put on your car when the part arrives.”

*Clock* Week two:

This is me sitting by the phone all week.

Week three:

“Yes, I was just wondering if my Volvo part came in so I can have my alignment done and my new tires put on?”

“Oh, yes, I remember you -- uhmmm, yeah, yes, the part came in. When would you like to come in?”

“Can I come down tomorrow afternoon?”

“Well, no, we are kind of booked-up for the rest of this week, and into the middle of next week.”

*Clock* Week four:

Still waiting! I set my appointment for next available time slot.

*Clock* Week five:

We show up at 1:00 pm, they are still working on another car, so WebLock and I sat on a wooden bench, outside of the garage, in the Florida sun. After one hour, they drove our car in and up the ramp. That didn’t mean they were tending to her needs at that time, it’s more like -- say you go to a doctor’s office, and they have a general waiting room, then you are called into a patient’s examining room about twenty-minutes after your appointment time, where you will wait-out the rest of the hour, meaning your 2:00 appointment doesn’t really start until 3:00. And, when you finally do see the doctor, once the nurse finishes taking your pulse and blood pressure, and asking if there are any changes, you don’t want to let the doctor leave. You want your full time and bonus time since the doctor was late, so you start making up things that might be bothering you, but then say, you think it may have been how awkwardly you slept on your arm that caused the pain, and not a potential heart attack worry added to your file. However, I do blather on!

Anyway, Ruby was in that patient room. About an hour and a half after our appointment time, they pulled her tires off, unceremoniously I may add, and started working on removing the bad part. A half hour after that, the tire-guy, comes out to us and says ...

“I have some bad news. The fitting they sent us is for the wrong side. We tried calling suppliers in the area, but no one had the part. So we have to order one. It could take a week or so.”

“Another week? Where is it coming from, Sweden?!!!”

The guy just half-laughed that off and assured me it won’t be coming from that far away. Then he placed the old tires back on Ruby and brought her out of the service area, So not amused by now, folks!

*Yawn* Week six:

The right part came in. We show up fifteen minutes late for scheduled time. Road construction followed by the long-long train, caused Ruby’s time slot to be re-appointed to another customer. *Angry*

I know, I see you what you’re thinking:
“WebWitch, why don’t you go to another tire place? Surely there has to be another one in the area?”

I did do that, folks. As a matter of fact there was a tire place even closer than the one that was giving me so much aggravation. So, we went to that place, described what we needed and they were happy to tell us they could do it within a few days, because they needed to order the same part that the other place got. Then I asked for an estimate.

“What? Why is this price three hundred dollars over this other tire place’s price?”

“Well, we don’t feel right just getting the bushing, we also want to replace the arm. You should do that, it’s for safety sake, you know.”

“Okay, I’ll call you if I decide to come here for the work.”

*Irritated* Week seven:

I return to the original tire place after setting an appointment and getting there a half-hour earlier. They had all the parts needed and got working on Ruby. I asked them, and my mechanic for a second and third opinion, if I needed the arm to go with the bushing. They said no, just the fitting was needed.

Ruby's tires were an ongoing joke in my community. I’d get the inquiries, “So WebWitch, I noticed Ruby still has her old tires. Usually, when my car needs tires, I go to the tire shop and return home with new tires -- on the same day! What kind of special tires are they, that it takes almost two months to get?!!!”

After Ruby finally got her new pair of shoes, they asked if the tires were worth the nearly two-months of wait.

"Yes, they were worth the wait. They are everything I ever wanted in tires for Ruby -- in fact, they are all that and more!" *Pthb*

Thankfully, Ruby is moving over the roads with zip and class and smooth traveling all the way, but I am not! You see, folks, the last time I bought tires for Ruby, I needed to get a hip replaced. I just don't comprehend the correlation between Ruby's tire changing and my hip changing, but, as luck would have it ... *Shock2*

To Be Continued!


Until next time, (should I survive ) Laugh hard, laugh often!


Editor's Picks

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Ask & Answer

drjim

Webbie - as usual, the Clubhouse never has a dull moment to spare when the Super Bowl rolls around these parts. Of course, the one thing we forgot to do when we spoke to everyone about the now infamous "Death Seat" is point out that it is actually a part of a Death COUCH....you know...it's a loveseat one-of-a-kind....you know what I mean... it all seems to be able to bear up against the strain in due time. Nevertheless, the Death Seat has now changed into the Maim Chair, capable of making dear pals disappear for weeks at a time.....shoot, what are we to do? We so enjoyed our evening with all your wonderful foodie creations...just as we predicted we would! Add to it the Orange CRUSH totally dominated the likes of Carolina and by golly, a classic was served up alongside of friendship. Its all good, WebWitch, its all good!! *Heart*

I was hoping the other team would win! *Laugh* However, the dear friend is getting better, so that's good news about future seat arrangements at the next Super Bowl! Perhaps he will be immune to any dangers since he already got Death-Seat vaccinated?!!! *Smirk*


LJPC - the tortoise Author IconMail Icon

Hi WW! I"m glad you enjoyed the Super Bowl and that your guests love your food enough to sacrifice their lives to keep you cooking! Apparently the "Death Seat" needs a new name. How about "Plagues of Job" seat? *Wink*
~ Laura

*Ha**Laugh* I love that term, Laura! Anything is better than "Death Seat!" Plagues are horrible but one may survive, right?!!! *Wink*





Thanks for the feedback, folks! We editors really appreciate it. *Smile*


See you next month -- I hope!



*Witchlegs1*


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