It Was Just Supposed to Be a Free Oil Change

So, a while back, I got a coupon in the mail for a free oil change from a car dealership. Ironically, the coupon was from a different dealership than the one at which I recently spent a couple of Pacman sacks to get my check engine light off. Today I redeemed that coupon. Plus, I also needed a headlight bulb replaced.

The last time I had a headlight go out, I spent 2 hours breaking into my car to replace it. Then I drove away, only to realize the replaced light was saluting a long lost brother of light in Sammy Sosa-like fashion, pointing to the sky. Nothing like driving down Ellington and feeling like you’re peeking up the skirt of every ghetto bridge along the way. That was about 10 months ago. You want to guess which headlight went out Tuesday? You’re right. I suck.

These are the reasons I decided to let the professionals do it. Plus, I didn’t want to break my streak and actually get something free from a car dealership.

I called yesterday to schedule an appointment. The guy said it would take maybe an hour and a half. He then asked if I wanted a ride back to the office or if I wanted to wait it out. I decided to go at lunch and wait it out.

Upon arrival, they told me everyone in the shop was at lunch. Therefore, it was going to take at least 3 hours.

Courtesy van it is.

So I got to ride shotgun… Then everyone else started piling in. Aside from the fact we weren’t in a Beetle or a Mini-Cooper, I’m fairly confident I know what a clown in transit must feel like. So the 8 of us take off down the road. I’ve ridden in many a church van full of nasty kids. This was in no way comparable, but shotgun was still looking like a pretty good call.

We got one dropped off in less than 5 minutes. Clutch for the folks in the middle seats. Then things got interesting.

Due to our driver’s traffic allergy, we are driving through the hood of West Nashville. He’s constantly reassuring the backseat crew that they will not get shot. I’ve driven this area many a time to avoid Charlotte traffic, so I am not worried about my safety. Blue lights serve to bolster this feeling. Until I realize the blue lights are not going around our courtesy van.

It’s been a while since I’ve been pulled over, but I’m fairly familiar with acceptable etiquette. The driver pulls over. It is at this point in time my version of standard operating procedure ceases. Our driver greets the officer with a string of profanity audible from at least the back bumper.

You want to know what 7 people standing in a parking lot outside of a courtesy van looks like? Drive a courtesy van, cuss out a cop and refuse to give him your license, registration and proof of insurance.

Yep.

I’d like to thank my business casual for stopping the second and third cops from handcuffing me… Can’t say as much for the driver and his two fast friends who stepped to his misguided defense. He who has ears, let him hear: officers of the law do not enjoy wit and sarcasm when handcuffing courtesy van riders.

Additionally, I now know how thorough a drug search [Note: to clarify, search of a car, not human cavities] can be when performed by trained personnel.

In a truly surprising turn of events, no one got arrested. I couldn’t have typed that sentence and ended it with “fired.” Two hours and one new driver later, I got back to work. Just in time to turn around and catch the shuttle back to the dealership.

You remember when your librarian friend told you that you can’t use Wikipedia as a source and you can’t believe everything you read on the internet? She’s right. I hope I sufficiently dusted off my fiction writing.

In reality, the first part of that story was true. You know… the uneventful part? Once I got in the courtesy van, it was just me and the friendly driver. We talked NCAA basketball and made it to the office in under 10 minutes.

Whoever decided there would be one day a year when it is socially acceptable to lie? It’s not even April, fools. Keep an eye out tomorrow… You never know when someone will get to work 2 hours early and decorate your cube like Neyland Stadium.