I woke up hungry. My stomach hurt and my head ached. I went about my business, hoping the feeling would pass as I got some food into my stomach, if only just a little bit. BoBo was dropped off; I filled up my gas tank, and dropped YaYa off at the on-site childcare. On a chance that I might speak with his teacher, I walked over towards the classroom. No teacher in sight, so I returned to my van.
It wouldn’t start. Actually, it started but then quickly died. I took some deep breaths. My headache was building. Why was this happening to me? I just can’t go on wondering where I will be stranded. The van finally started. I began driving to the freeway with both relief and nervousness. By the time I got to the freeway, glanced at the line-up of cars, I decided that I just couldn’t take it any more. I am sick – sick of wondering if my van will stall and leave me stranded, and sick with a stomach and headache.
So I took the van immediately to the dealership where I met up with Brian. Brain was a little caught up in the fact that, although I purchased my van at his dealership, I did not take my van there for regular servicing. It just isn’t convenient. It’s close to home, but when I am near home I need my van. He talked the talk about customer service and gave me a “90% accurate” diagnosis. Whatever. I just hoped it wasn’t going to cost me an arm and a leg.
Apparently, there is a valve that regulates the mixture of the gas and air as it enters the engine. Or something like that. If the improper amounts of air enter the engine, the van is unhappy and dies. It sounded vaguely familiar – like when I run too hard, or too long and I can’t seem to get the proper mixture of air and fuel to fuel my hardworking heart and muscles. That’s when my body dies. I think I understand.
I waited an excruciating amount of time for the friendly courtesy shuttle to give me a ride home. I watched the odometer closely to determine if I could run back to pick up the van when it was ready. I just couldn’t bear to wait again. I wasn’t buying Brian’s theory that his dealership was better than the one by my work.
It turns out that Brian’s diagnosis was accurate. Not only did he figure out the issue based on my verbal description, he also determined that I had an extended warranty. That was $400+ that I did NOT have to pay. Okay, that *is* good service.
I happily run 3.02 miles to pick up my van and satisfy my training schedule. My stomach remains a little iffy, but my head is happily relieved.