RTFM

I think I was fleeced this weekend. Royally, royally fleeced. My car needed an oil change. So Chip and I hopped over to the local Express Lube. I go there quite often, if I have to get an oil change done by myself. It’s really close, wait times are not bad at all and unlike the reputation these places have, they seldom recommend crazy things to be done to the car. Since BigGeek is not in town, Chip and I traipsed down to the oil change store. It was of course a visual treat for Chip who was enthralled by the pneumatic drills and screwdrivers. People working under the car, hoods popped open and general gadgetry and grime. He ate lunch in the waiting area and then we went outside as my car was pulled into the bay. It had been about 20 minutes since we got there. “Not bad.” I thought. Another 20 minutes and we will be out of here.

Ten minutes later the mechanic beckoned me. He stuck a grimy finger in my car’s hood and brought an oil covered finger for me to inspect. “See how black it is? It needs to be clean.” He showed me clean, green oil. “What is it?” I asked. “It’s steering wheel fluid. Your car has 30,000 miles on it. You need to change it every 30,000 miles.” Hmmm. I do drive more than 250 miles a week. I thought. You gotta take good care of the car. Don’t want it breaking down. “Ok.” I said. “How much will it cost?” “Sixty Four nine-nine.” I told him to give me new steering wheel fluid.

Ten minutes later, the mechanic beckoned me again. “You are out of coolant.” He said. How could I be out of coolant? The computer in my car would have told me I was out of coolant. I thought. “You need to flush the coolant once every year.” “How could I be out of coolant?” I asked him. “Take a look.” True enough the blue coolant was scraping the bottom of the radiator. But my car hadn’t overheated. I could just drive up to Walmart or Automax and get some coolant, no? And pour it in. I have done it before. But then again. I drive more than 250 miles a week. I thought. You gotta take good care of the car. Don’t want it breaking down. “Ok.” I said. “How much will it cost?” “Seventy Four nine-nine” Is that how much coolant really cost? I didn’t remember. I thought coolant was just water and alcohol. May be I was mistaken. What with these new fangled engines and cooling and injection systems. It’s just so complicated. Our old rickety fiat was so easy to understand. Nobody could pull wool over my eyes with that one. Or even simpler? The Luna I had in college. Anybody ever drive a Luna? I always joked its engine was as big has a box of Laxmi brand asafetida (no kidding, it was really that small). Heck, our lawn mower has more horsepower than that one. And it broke down so often. The Luna. Not the lawn mower (that’s a Honda. It will never breakdown). At one point, the Luna’s spark plug would refuse to ignite when the engine was turned off for some time. Even with a brand new sparkplug. No idea why. But I carried a spanner and sandpaper in my book bag. Every time before I would kick start the lil beast, I would unscrew the spark plug, sand it down a bit with the sand paper, screw it back in and kick start. And it would start just fine. Simple engines. Simple times. Simple lives.

But to the coolant. “OK.” I said warily. “Flush the coolant.” But I was uncomfortable. It just didn’t sound right. I tried calling BigGeek, but he was asleep in a different time zone and his cell phone was switched off. I called a friend and explained what had just happened. “You think I got conned?” I asked him. “It’s too late anyways.. They are changing the fluid as I am talking to you.” He laughed. “Maybe you did. “ He said. coolants don’t drain out like that. If they did, it would be a leak.” That made sense. But it was too late. The deed was done. I was left holding a $200 receipt. Later that evening, I recounted the events. “Did I get conned?” “Yes you did.” BigGeek doesn’t mince words. “What should I have done? I know. I should have told him to just change the oil. I could have come back for the other stuff. Sigh. Sigh.” I was wringing my hands over the $200. “What should I have done?” BigGeek was laughing. “You should have read the manual.” Dang. I knew it. I should have Read That F***ing Manual. RTFM. The secret code Geeks live by. And also the secret weapon they assault us mere mortals by.