I finally found a mechanic who will work on my baby Vincent. I had one phone call that went like this:
Me: Hello, have you ever worked on a VINTAGE VW?
Dickhead: Yes. Can you hold a moment?
Dickhead: Sorry about that.
Me: It's okay.
Dickhead: So, what's wrong with your car?
Me: It's a 1971 VW Transporter and it's stuck in gear.
Dickhead: Oh, I don't work on VWs, I work on Porches
Me: Um... they're very similar.
Dickhead: No, they're not.
*insert me wanting to scream at him right here*
Dickhead: I don't want to work on a VW Van.
Me: Well then can you RECCOMEND SOMEONE WHO DOES?
Dickhead: *snippy* No.
Me: Fine. Thanks a lot.
~Mind you: This guy's advertisement said "For All Your German Auto Needs" or something to that effect. Last I checked (and I admit, it's been a while, so I could be wrong) Volkswagon was a German Auto!! A Pox on the Phoney German Automechanic!
UG!!! I finally found someone who actually will work on my bebe, and even has a preferred towing company that attatches their bill to the overall bill (convenience!)
But Crimanelli, why does it have to be so hard?? I got the feeling that Dickhead Porche dude didn't want to talk to me because I was a girl, and obviously stupid. *scream*
But anyhow, it's all taken care of now, but I still have to wait for the tow truck to come so I can give him the keys. Dammit, I need to go work out! I don't want to be sitting here waiting for a tow truck. I need to return videos! I haven't even watched both of them yet, though.
I just hate this! I hate dealing with this crap!
And people wonder why I just ride the bus.