Bad Carma

What you're looking at here is my sucky weekend. And $50 of gas dripping out of a hole in my gas tank. No, I don't know how it happened. I must have run over something on the freeway and it hit the gas tank just right to gouge a hole in it. I kept smelling gas when I approached my car, but I was a bit in denial. Sure, the gas gage was dropping a little more rapidly than normal, but I just chalked it up to having the A/C on full blast. Until I actually saw the huge puddle on the pavement when I backed out of a parking space, did I realize I was in trouble.

Luckily, (or so I thought) I was in San Jose when I noticed it, so I sped the 10 miles to Mountain View right past the angry picketers, into the Mini of Mountain View parking lot.

Inside I go, to be told that the service department isn't open on the weekends. Yes, I know, I explain, but as I don't think it's a great idea to be driving my little Molotov cocktail, I'll just leave it right here until Monday, when service is open again. Ah, but no, see those picketers out front? That's the service department. You won't be getting service anytime soon from this dealership.

Okay, new plan. I call Mini roadside service to have my car towed to the San Francisco dealership. Sure, not a problem, however, the towing service won't cross the picket line. Finally we arrange an alternative location, and I move my car to a nearby business.

Now my little car is spending the weekend in Mountain View and will get a ride to the city on Monday. Just last week I was thinking how nice it is to have a new car (seriously, less than 3,000 miles on this baby) so I don't have to worry about any weird noises or big repair bills. It's almost like fate thought I should be knocked down a peg. *sigh*