Mechanic
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It was a phone call no one wants to take. Fortunately, it wasn’t for me. That means someone else will have a mess on their hands.

Mechanics have something in common with doctors. Sometimes they have to deliver bad news.

This bad news was going to be costly. As the laundry list of ailments for the van were spilling out of the shop steward’s mouth, the cash register was ringing.

“Sir you’ve got broken leaf springs and you’ve got issues with your rear sway bar.” He continued. “The tie rod ends are worn out and that serpentine belt is a little worn.”

“Oh dear,” I’m thinking. “This isn’t going well.”

Finally the last blow arrives. “You also have a leaky oil pan gasket.” If you’ve had to get your vehicle fixed that’s as if you are magically transported into Wile E. Coyote’s role in trying to capture the Road Runner. You fall off that cliff to the bottom of the ravine and the boulder then crashes down on your head to add insult to injury.

However, there was a problem the mechanic had yet to diagnose. “Did my wife drop off the van this morning?” I asked. The voice on the other end halted as he described a note left with this machine as it sat in the parking lot overnight. He did say there was no name or phone number with the note.

Continuing my probe, “What kind of van is it?” The vehicle he described was a van but not the one that resides in our garage. Truthfully my doubts were evident early in the conversation because there was no indication that the van was going to the shop today. Also we had the rear sway bar fixed a couple years ago.

The mix-up apparently occurred when the license plate on the van in their possession was entered into their system. How it pointed them to me is a mystery. That wrong number went from costing me over $2,000 to landing that responsibility in someone else’s lap.

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