Car Trouble? I'd say! | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Kathy Manos Penn is a native of the “Big Apple,” who settled in the “Peach City” – Atlanta. A former English teacher now happily retired from a corporate career in communications, she writes a weekly column for the Dunwoody Crier and the Highlands Newspaper. Read her blogs and columns and purchase her books, “The Ink Penn: Celebrating the Magic in the Everyday” and “Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch,” on her website theinkpenn.com or Amazon.

    I couldn't do anything but laugh in disbelief as this tale of woe unfolded. It started at 1 AM in the MARTA parking lot upon our return from a trip. "We're not going anywhere; the car won't start," groaned my husband. He tried again, and luckily it started.

    Because he came home with a cold, my husband got up early the next morning to head to Urgent Care and took my car because, you guessed it, his wouldn't start. Sick as a dog, he came home, tried unsuccessfully to start his car, and went to bed. I figured, "No worries; he can rest and call AAA tomorrow."

    Fortunately, he felt worse Friday, so I called AAA. They couldn't start the car either and towed it to the dealership. I say "fortunately," because he couldn't fret over his car much less drive it, nor could he deal with the service department, and that was a good thing. Why? Because this saga continued for nine days.

    The dealership called to ask what the problem was; it started right up for them. They seemed to doubt my story until I reminded them AAA had the same problem. I described the icons that appeared on the panel, and heard, "We can't fix the problem if we can't replicate it. Want us to run a diagnostic and charge you?" What else could I do? I didn't want it back without an explanation.

    They called that night to say they'd try to get to it the next day and call me. Cool, except I got no call that day, and it was now New Year's weekend. Day five after the holiday, I spoke to someone who promised to call right back. Then I took my still sick husband to the doctor and discovered he had bronchitis.

    In all, I spoke with three folks days five and six who promised to call but didn't. Even the parts department got in on the act because the switchboard bounced me there twice. Finally, day six, a woman answered the phone, said, "Give me 15 minutes; I'll call you back," and she did.

    She said they couldn't identify the problem, but there'd be no charge. By now, we were beyond ready to pick up the car. Day seven, I dropped my husband off and left. My phone rang, and I heard, "What keys did you give them? They can't find them." I suggested they look in the glove box for the valet key, as I didn't think I'd given them that one. The next call was, "I thought you said there was no charge; oh okay, now they agree-no charge."

    Wait, there's more. I had not handed over the valet key, and our set of keys was somewhere at the dealership. Yup, we left another message but got no response. Day eight, we drove back. I found someone who swore he'd looked everywhere for our keys and would make us a new key and fob in 90 minutes. I said, "You don't know how lucky you are that my husband is in the car and not standing in front of you." After another hour, this guy figured out he couldn't get a fob until the next morning. Honestly, all I could do was laugh.

    Back we went day nine, prepared to leave the car and have lunch out. The manager assured us he'd get it done in 45 minutes, so when my phone rang 45 minutes later, I expected to hear, "Your car's ready." Instead, I heard, "I have to get a fob. Would you like to bring the car back another day?" Was he kidding? I replied, "Get the fob; we'll wait." Hearing this story, the restaurant manager comped my beer and suggested I switch to hard liquor. After two hours, the call came in that the car was ready.

    I continued shaking my head in disbelief as I wrote this story and never did pour a stiff drink. I made do with my usual glass of wine.

    Kathy Manos Penn is a Sandy Springs resident. Her latest book, "Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch," and her collection of columns, "The Ink Penn: Celebrating the Magic in the Everyday," are available on Amazon. Follow her on Facebook to catch all the latest: https://www.facebook.com/KathyManosPennAuthor/