How to Love Your Luxury Beater

Ok, so, I've got this love/hate relationship with my car. It doesn't like to start; it makes funny smells (kind of like burning wood? It's probably wood-burning stoves. In several neighborhoods. And only when we take MY car. And only in the summer. Right.); it screams (bye-bye, rear axel. It was nice having you); and recently the panel that houses the switch for the moon roof fell off (it's tucked up above the passenger visor); and the AC seems to work only occasionally. But the leather seats are still smooth and comfy; the leather steering wheel makes my fingers sing; the heating in my seats still (mostly) works; the moon roof still responds to the switch; and I can still red-line the engine when I want to (though I've been trying not to lately).

So, since the interior of the car is black, and the AC is (to steal my SIL's line) a Unionized French beast (it works every other Tuesday and Thursday, except when those days are preceded or followed by a holiday, for approximately 15 minutes at a time, unless conditions are unhealthily warm), I've been loving the moon roof.

Since I haven't blown these speakers (yet), I get off work in the evening, hop in my car (just like Don Johnson, only, I open the door first), roll down the windows, open the roof and blast Georgia Public Radio (ok, or the local pop station). I arrive home sweaty, sticky, slightly more tan in all the wrong places, tired, wind-blown, and oddly refreshed. The loose ceiling covering even ripples and reminds me of seeing the ocean in my rear-view mirror. Does it get any better than this?

Better Knitting through Bavarische Motor Werks

Part I is for Irony.
So, on Tuesday I complained (loudly) that I've been far too well this season and that I really needed a sick day and my boss asked how my new car was and if I still loved it and mentioned that the dealership I had bought it from (owned by those jackals at Toyota of Augusta) had closed down. Wednesday, I woke up with a sore throat and my first thought was that there was no way any one would believe me if I called in sick... but the thought was still tempting. Today is Thursday. It was 26 degrees outside, according to my car. I started the car and drove the half a block to daughter's school to drop her off late (as usual). Then I pulled onto the street and up the hill. Slowly. Very, very slowly. So, I drove around the long way to my house, hoping that as the engine heated up, it'd move faster. Usually works for me, why not my car?

Things seemed to be moving in the right direction after a little bit, so I took the boy to school. I seemed to have a little more power, but it wasn't liking to shift until about 5,500 rpms and when I floored it, my sweet little 6-cylinder engine roared to a whopping 35 mph. Apparently, the fates agreed that it was time for a day off, so I called the office from the parking lot at the boy's school, and raced (ha!) to the GoodYear (lovely people there).

Part II - Enter Yarn
I sat and knitted for about 45 minutes and then they told me that they could change my oil, but that my transmission was sealed, so they couldn't even check that. I'd have to take it to a transmission shop. They recommended the one about a quarter mile closer to my house than they were. I went.

Part Ay yi yi - Diagnosis
I sat and knitted for another hour and a half while the Aamco people test-drove it and tested the computer and the battery and ran diagnostics. The transmission leaks. Not a lot, but some. It was two quarts low. They topped it off. And the rear end is shot. That's the whine I had been hearing and thought it was just my ears being too sensitive (after all, a car I've made all of three payments on should definitely NOT be making funny noises. So I hadn't been listening for any.). They said it needed to be replaced ASAP (appx $500+, emphasis on the plus). The reason I had no power was that my EML light is on, but burned out, so I couldn't see that it was on. Since the EML light is on, the computer is cutting the power to the engine down to about 30%. Maybe the computer's busted; maybe the sensor for the EML light is busted; maybe there's a blown fuse somewhere in there; or maybe my engine is hosed. They couldn't do more without the special BMW software. They recommended the privately owned shop about two miles down Wheeler Rd from Giuseppe's.

Part I.V. - A shot in the arm
The cool part is that we were supposed to get together for lunch at noon at Giuseppe's, which happened to be between me and the next repair shop on the list). I got done at Aamco at 1130 and made it at the same time as my coworkers. I had a ginormous calzone straight from heaven followed by Tiramisu to die for. It really is the best in town, so far.

Part V - Vaiting und vaiting
I got lost, got found (I am the person for whom GPS was invented), grabbed knitting and headed for the assistance desk at the privately owned shop on Wheeler. They only take appointments. I have one for Monday morning. I'll drop the car off Sunday night. *sigh* But my scarf is about 12" long now (9" longer than it was) and I'm really sure not to be late tomorrow... Because I'll be carpooling.