So, as you may remember from last week's Tuesday blog, my beloved RiflemanMobile 3.0 was carelessly damaged by an unknown douchebag and was, consequently, in the shop being repaired. Friday morning, I get a call that the RiflemanMobile was ready to be retrieved, so 'Shank and I went to get it. We drove it all afternoon without problems, but late that night, after I'd dropped 'Shank off at his house, I was on my way back to my Valley Ranch abode when a message flashed onto the RiflemanMobile's computer display informing me that the left front headlight wasn't working--the very same headlight that had been replaced by the body shop.
Fuck, I thought.
And also kind of cool that the Germans decided it'd be handy to actually be informed via the in-dash computer display when various lights were out.
The next morning, I wandered out to the RiflemanMobile to investigate the light. After figuring out how to remove it (no small task when the whole headlight mechanism seems to have been designed with African Pygmies in mind--the last people that'd probably drive a GTI), I discovered that the plastic around the base was melted. Fuck.
I weighed my options. Buy a new light and hope that I could get my large hands into the mechanism to mount it correctly (not really an option, because those HID lights are fucking pricey and there was no way that I was going to ever get my hand into that thing to mount it right). I could wait until Monday and take it back to the body shop and let them deal with it, but that'd leave me carless, or at least driving another shitty rental for a day or two. Or take it to VW and hope that they don't realize that the headlight assembly had been replaced (luckily, it was original VW parts).
I settled on the third option, assuming that it'd be a simple fix for VW, such as just replacing the bulb or something.
After killing a couple of hours at the VW place, my service advisor declared that not only was the bulb damaged because it was improperly seated in the housing (of course, he assumed it'd worked its way loose and was their problem) but also that the control assembly that handles the self-leveling functionality of the light had been damaged by arcing.
I agreed with him that this was a misfortunate issue, but then he asked me a question I didn't particularly like hearing. "How do you feel about driving a Beetle?"
"Is that all you have?" I replied.
"Yep...Just gave out our last Passat loaner."
"Well, I guess I can drive the Beetle, as long as it's not pink or lime green."
I follow him to the loaner car corral to find a red Beetle and a blue Touareg.
"What about the Touareg?" I asked.
"Oh, sorry...the Touareg loaners are for Touareg owners."
I signed the paperwork for the Beetle and climbed inside to head home. As soon as my ass hit the seat, I felt my genitals begin to turn inside out. It is definitely a chick car.
By the time I got home, I was pretty sure I had a full-blown vagina. It took me a while to get used to sitting to pee, but I did get to play with it a lot, even enjoying some "DJ diddles
So I temporarily have a vagina.
I get my GTI back tomorrow, if all goes as planned...hopefully, everything pops right back out when I get into it.
Labels: Cars, Misfortunate