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If there’s one thing I hate in this world, it’s cancer. If there are two things I hate, it’s cancer and meatloaf. If there are three things I hate, it’s cancer, meatloaf, and car maintenance. I will continue to do my best to avoid the first two items on that list but am guaranteed to spend the rest of my days coping with the fact that car maintenance is a necessary evil that I simply cannot ignore. I mean, I could ignore it, but that would likely result in more pain and suffering.
Many moons ago, before I went off on the adventure that was attending college out of state, ten hours from home, my dad took me out into his shop and forced me to learn how to do various car maintenance tasks in order to “prepare” me for living on my own. I bitched and moaned through the entire lesson, grimacing at the grime on my hands. After all was said and done, I had changed out a tire, both tail lights, the cabin A/C filter, and the oil. Though this was all a noble effort on behalf of my father, I think he forgot that there are plenty of reputable establishments that would perform the worst of those same tasks for me at a nominal cost. As if I would ever change my own oil. Seriously.
I’m well-known within my group of friends for running out of gas. Yes, I know how absurd this is. I also routinely drive my car over the suggested oil change limit. Like, pretty far over. These seemingly menial tasks just bother the hell out of me. I think it’s more of a matter of inconvenience. Time is money, neither of which I want to spend at the Shell station or the Jiffy Lube.
For one, gas stations are nasty. I am genuinely grossed-out at having to grab the handle of a gas pump. It seems that it is a matter of science that it is always blistering hot when I need to fill up my car. It could be in the dead of winter, but as soon as I pull up to the pump, it suddenly turns to 107 degrees. Upon turning off the engine, I have to suffer through at least 8 minutes of no A/C. This also kills whatever jam session I was having, and disconnects my phone from the Bluetooth. To top it all off, I then have to avoid the leering eyes of the creepy dude that is inevitably on the other side of the pump as me. Don’t even get me started on gas prices. Might as well just throw my money straight into the commode.
As much as I hate the gas thing, that is small potatoes compared to the oil change. There are few things worse than taking two hours out of my Saturday, driving my car to the shop, and sitting in a weird-smelling lobby while making miserable small-talk with the dude behind the desk and sipping shitty coffee. There is usually either a screaming child or inconsiderate individual having a very personal phone conversation on speaker in there somewhere, too. After I fight my way out of those trenches, to make matters worse, I have to pay real money for this whole experience. My hard-earned dollars, gone, just so my car won’t explode and die, or do whatever it is that cars do when you don’t change the oil.
Recently, I was returning home after a particularly long road trip. It was around 10:00 at night when I heard that awful ding sound, followed shortly thereafter by a glowing orange symbol on the dash. My back-right tire was low. I was only 15 minutes from home, so I checked the PSI and determined that I would probably be fine to make it back without issue. The temperature had dropped around 20 degrees, so I thought perhaps the weather was the culprit for this sudden fluctuation in tire pressure. As I’m sure you’ve already deduced, I was incorrect.
I got home that evening, unpacked the car, and hit the sack, my back-right tire a “tomorrow’s me” type of problem. That next morning, I woke up late for work. I threw on my business attire: pencil skirt, heels, and all, and threw open the front door. It was raining cats and dogs. Amazing.
I broke the NFL record for the 40-yard dash, and made it to the driver’s seat without getting completely soaked. I turned the car on as I attempted to dry my rain-covered door with a Taco Bell napkin I retrieved from the console. In an instant, I was reminded of the previous night’s tire situation. That damn orange symbol was glowing right into my stupid face. What had formerly been a mild concern was now headed full-steam in the direction of a flat. I got back out of my car, into the rain, dressed in my work clothes, and took a quick look at the tire. Not good, Bob. I climbed back into the front seat, hair now matted onto my forehead with rainwater, and weighed my options.
My roommate’s parents live one neighborhood over, so I called up her dad to see if I could run by and have him look at it. By the time I got to their house, it was clear that a quick air-up in the garage was unlikely to do the trick, this time. He aired me up just enough to get me to the Firestone across town, and I called my place of employment in order to explain my predicament. There’s nothing quite like disappointing your boss first thing in the morning.
The good fellas of Firestone immediately informed me that this tire had a leak. But luckily for me, this was a special leak. A leak that couldn’t be repaired. Turns out, I needed a whole new tire. I was already extremely tardy to work at this point and explained as much to my angels in mechanic’s clothes. Those fine gentlemen threw my spare on free of charge and I headed north, riding at a cool 55 mph on this donut of a wheel.
Two days later, I had to take off an entire afternoon in order to go back over to the shop to replace this godforsaken tire. $200 and an hour-and-a-half later, I had a new wheel, a new air filter, an oil change, and a piss-poor mood. I can think of many other things I would rather spend two Bennies on than a new tire. Shoes, for example. Though technically I guess a tire is a new shoe for your car. Whatever.
Put simply: I hate getting gas. I hate washing my car. I hate buying new tires. I hate getting it aligned. I hate getting the oil changed. Honestly, what even is a tune-up? Thank heavens my city just got hit with a wave of those newfangled Bird scooters. Guess I’ll just buy myself a brain bucket and hit the streets in style. Anything to avoid billion-degree burnt coffee and Sweet-N-Low in a tiny Styrofoam cup. .
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Every time I take my car in for a simple tune-up, I always half expect the mechanic to come out to the lobby, give me this somber look and say, “We lost her.”
Owning a car and everything that entails is low-key the worst part about being an adult
I’ve always wanted to ask… how does one run out of gas?
My last car didn’t have a gas warning light, so when I got below 1/4 tank it was put it in the back of your head. My car ran out of gas on Father’s Day. Roadside for the win.
Nothing like paying $1300 for a car only for it to die due to a ground issue, then fork out $600 for Pep Boys to fix it. I learned my lesson on that one. I bought a Haynes manual and plan on doing a lot of the maintenance myself, like oil changes and tune ups. I did treat myself to new wheels and tires though.
I went to a Valvoline the other day because it was basically a drive thru oil change. I didn’t have to get out or anything. I just drove up over the hole in the floor, the mechanics fixed the ole girl up, and I was on my way. Although I got penetrated when it came to the cost so I now do it myself.
As someone in the market for a new-to-me used vehicle, reading about your hatred for car maintenance has given me the rare Friday scaries.
Thankfully my Dad is a mechanic so he went with me to check out the used cars I was finding on Facebook/Craigslist. If you have a mechanically minded friend or parent, bring them along.
and never skip on getting a PPI done.
I’ll vouch for this as well. Worth the couple hundred it might cost. I got one for my heavily depreciated, maintenance heavy, AMG luxury sedan.
Maybe this is me living in a small town but I just get gas on the way past my favorite station (and due to my anxiety I try to never let it get below half full) usually at night when there’s not a lot of people around or when I’m grocery shopping because it’s in the same lot.
And for oil changes I use one of those quick change 10 min places, best I can tell its maybe 10% more but pricing car stuff isn’t really my forte. I drive up, stay in my car, they give me a sparkly water or beverage of my choice, have me push the break petal a few times, I scroll instagram for 5-10 minutes while they tap my visa card and bring me a clipboard to sign and drive off with everything all done.
Go to the dealership for your oil change. They usually have coupons and they at least give you food and a nice waiting area while they try to push service you don’t need
Sure if you don’t mind bending over for them when it’s all said and done.
Not always. The dealership I use to service my car is actually cheaper than going to an independent oil change place or shop
If you’re paying more than $25.00 for your 5 qt fill of conventional oil and mediocre filter, you’re being reamed. I know not everyone has the space to do so, but if you do, why not do your own oil change? its generally 3 things you need to unscrew and screw back in when it’s all said and done.
Most of it is convenience and the fear of messing something up. However, for air filters I agree it’s easy enough to just do those on your own
Yeah my diesel takes 2.5 times that oil, combine that with it being a 6.0 and i’d rather have someone else do it than my dumbass messing it up and having to pay more money to get it fixed. So the 100 it takes at jiffy lube is just about the same for me to do it.
Ideally, I’d know an independent mechanic that specializes in the brand. But with the coupon, the oil change at the dealer ends up being the best deal
I’ll NEVER go to a dealer again for my car. Took it in for an oil change “You have an oil leak, $125 to diagnose it.” FUCK NO. If it’s my wife’s Lexus double fuck no. I can’t wait until I have the money to buy her a Toyota Prius Prime because of the fact that everything costs more because it has an “L” on the front. I just had my dad do brakes on her car and I only paid $200 for parts and $70 for a steak dinner.
That can happen at an independent shop too though. The nice thing about the dealership is if you don’t like your service advisor, just get somebody different the next time.
I’ve found some good independent shops though. My dad is a mechanic with 40 years experience.
Or, you could spend 5 minutes on YouTube learning how to work on your exact car and change your oil in 30 minutes while waiting on no one.
If anyone is poor/low on money, you have no excuse to not work on your car. The saving are incredible, the personal satisfaction you get, and the tools you need to do the work will last you a lifetime. Plus, when something breaks, you’re not always stranded and at the while of some random small town me hanic looking to take advantage of you.
Not having space is no excuse. I do all my work in a parking garage and have all the tools anyone would need in a small storage locker. Goddamn millennials these days….
Have you looked into getting and ez-drain valve? Best maintenance decision I’ve made. Makes oil changes, mess free and quick AF.
My only objection to that is the added length and something potentially hanging down. That might not be a concern for the regular person who doesn’t own a low or lowered cars.
Speed bleeders though are a god send. Makes bleeding brakes on my motorcycle so quick and easy.
Lowered my car 1.5″ in front and 1.3″ in the rear. Min ground clearance is about 4″. it didnt add length. YMMV.
and yes on speed bleeders. had one on my r6 and it came in handy.
This isn’t goddamn Europe.
If I lived in Chicago proper and worked in Chicago proper, I could get away with not having a car. In fact my buddy parked his at his parents and moved to the city and got a job where his job subsidizes his public trans. Unfortunately, not all of us have the schedules conducent to commuting or work within easy public trans/walking. Plus, I was told I’d never drive and beat the odds, so I’ll be damned if I give up my car.
Back in May, my AC wasn’t working. Bring the car in, only to find out my pipe got eaten by “a large rodent” and replacement/repair costs were $500. Clearly I screwed over the DC rodent population at some point…
Just sell your car and walk.