
Well yesterday I HAD to have the car smog checked in order to import our car. We've put it off too long and the temporary registration on our car is up so we HAD to do it yesterday. There are about 2-3 smog check places on every street it seems like. With that much competition around I figured all the prices had to be around the same. So I pull into one on the main drag. The guy says 20 minutes. Their smog equipment is broken so he has to run across the street, he points to the other smog check place, and it will take 20 minutes. It's 12:00 and already past Jackson's napping time, but that's okay. I didn't pack any food for him or me because I knew it would take 20 minutes. If he couldn't fit me in right away, I'd find another one that could. So we walk around the block.
All of the houses have chain-linked fences or sharp posts around their yards, the street has 2-3 strays that I can see, the dogs in the yards look like they eat mange for breakfast and I'm looking forward to having my car done. Jackson and I walk a couple of blocks during which time the poor kid decides to lay on the concrete sidewalk and twirl his hair because he's so tired and is getting increasingly upset when I won't let him play with the weepy-eyed dogs. On the way back to the shop there's a kid, 8th grader, kicking a ball against his garage in an alley. He was so nice and let Jackson play with the ball and even kicked it to him a couple of times. I was making chit-chat with the kid and said, "What grade are you in? Oh, really. What school?" He pointed and then proceeded to tell me that this was his first day outside and he hadn't been to school all week because he had a cough that caused his face to turn red everytime he coughed. "Hmm. Great! Wow, look at the time! C'mon, Jackson! The car's done," I say as I lead Jackson away. I inwardly cringe as I think of the ball and Jackson picking it up and licking it and doing whatever else.
We only get half a block before he lays on the concrete again. I've about had it. So hefting the tyke I walk the remaining block back to the shop. It's now 12:30. The mechanic says there's something wrong with my steering so they fixed that and it'll be done in 10 minutes. I wait. 12:45. Still no car, but it'll only 10 more minutes he says. At 1:30 and after several more "10 more minute" assurances the other people waiting for their cars start to voice my thoughts. "10 more minutes he keeps saying." Well at 2:00 there is still no car. By this point Jackson has found a very dirty spray bottle top, rubbed it all over the top of his head, smeared his face and hands over 2-3 of the dirty cars in the lot, tried to roll around in oil, found a standup mirror and promptly kissed his reflection, made a fast break for the street three times, and is alternating between wailing and going boneless when I won't let him do what he wants. 2:30. No mechanic. 2:45. I hoof it across the street and walk to the other shop (Jackson decided to go boneless in the middle of a crosswalk). I'm sweating, tired, and fed up. I'm going to demand my car back. Colby couldn't help out at all because he was in another city and carless. When I get there, I'm there but my car isn't. I glance back at the original smog shop and there's my car.
So back I go carrying my awkward pregnant body and my wailing baby. Colby recommended I make sure that I had the keys in my hand and the certificate before I made a stink. Hence one of the reasons I waited so long. 3:00. Back in the shop. I've got everything in hand. I have to wait 5 more minutes before someone comes in and I can argue about payment. I could have just walked, but that would have been dishonest (in my opinion). How much I ask. $60. I say, no way. I say, it should be free. You said 20 minutes and now it's 3 hours later! He said I was your car's fault. The steering was out and I couldn't get a smog check on it. I say, "Nothing was wrong with the steering! You didn't keep up your end of the bargain and so I'm not keeping mine!" They tried to explain that there was nothing they could do and they had to take it to 3 different smog check places to get a reading on it. Looking back, now that I realize that they had taken my car to places that I didn't know about, I shouldn't have paid them anything. In the middle of arguing (I was holding firm at 30, then), Colby called and I was the middle man. Colby fortified my resolve and I hung up and resumed arguing. I felt like DeNiro in this clip from Stardust only angrier!
The mechanic said I'll go $50 because I have to pay the State of California ten for the certificate. I said, "The shop across the street only charges $50 total. I was over there and it's on a sign outside!! Thirty." He said, "$45". I said, "30." Finally I said 35. He said, "Okay and ten more for the certificate which is $45. " I said, "Then it's thirty." He was about to counter when I played the pregnancy and kid card. Not only do I feel like I'm the size of a cow, but now I'm as mad as one. I start throwing my arms out saying, "I've been here three hours, I've got other things to do, my kid is tired and hungry and filthy, I'm pregnant..." and that's as far as I got. He said, $40 and I said, "Done!" I gave him my credit card and when he informed me it was an additional $1.50 to use credit, I grabbed it back and shoved my debit card at him!
I roll out of there around 3:30-ish. Colby recommends I buy something I want like a frosty or something. I would have but already felt guity and sugared out because I ate all, yes all, of the sugar cookies our home teachers gave me at 11:50 as I was leaving the parking lot after an RS function. In my defense, I was hungry!
Today I told him to thank the Joneses for the cookies. When he asked, "What cookies and how many did you eat?" I said, "Home teaching cookies and I lost count after 4 and I'm too embarrassed to really count." They were good. Anyway, that's our Saturday Saga!
Curse you DMV for requiring a smog check.










