Space Dolphin (my car) has been nagging me for many weeks. I was overdue on my first oil change and service. I just didn't have the mental space to get it taken care of, and the longer I waited, the harder it was to get past the anxiety of a phone call and the fear that they'd scold me for being late. A few weeks ago I got into the right headspace to handle it, and made an appointment with the same dealership where I bought it. Today was the big day.
I started early, cleaning out debris from grandchildren and grandparents, like old masks and shopping bags. We went to the car wash, SD and I, for a scrub and a vacuum. I even took leather cleaner and microfiber to the car wash with me, to remove smudges and the dance-step map Val had left on the back of my seat. It was as pretty and well-maintained as I could present it, and I headed out to Golden.
I thought I had left super early (more than an hour ahead) and would be turning the car in well before my appointment. I massively underestimated Boulder and Golden traffic. I got there about 7 minutes late. The guy was chill, though. They were going through massive renovations at the dealership, so I hung out in a trailer that serves as their temporary sales office. I brought a book, and I focused on it as best as I could with so much activity and conversation around me.
I had asked the guy to fix one thing not on the regular maintenance checklist. A piece of weatherstripping foam pulled out from between the windshield and the dash. I couldn't get it back in when I tried poking it with a chopstick last year. The guy said he could do it. It wasn't until I was 5 miles out, heading home that I noticed he failed to do it. It's visible in the photo I took of the bumper sticker I followed through Golden, of a guy who deserved a one-finger salute from me (I was too polite to give it.)
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