So Friday is ticking, ticking, ticking along. SweetPea and I are scrambling around town with Things We Gotta Do, all the while planning on heading back out to Folsom by 6pm to pick up Barnahbus as promised.
And long about 4pm, I decide that I've about had done with waiting for them to call me and let me know what's going on, so I have SweetPea call.
Oh you know this doesn't end well.
Apparently the paint on Barn's ass isn't drying as quickly as they thought it would and there was a problem with the insertion of the back window because they weren't heating things to the correct temperature and the window lady could come out and redo it, but it needs to set for at least an hour afterwards and that puts things dangerously to their quitting time and it would probably be easier and safer if they just kept it and did the window again first thing Monday.
If you heard the sonic boom emanating from Roseville, that would have been my head. Exploding.
And, finally, Monday rolls around and I'm patiently waiting. I was told that the window person could be there first thing, and then it's an hour wait, and surely the paint will have dried over the weekend, so I should be getting a call before lunchtime, right?
So finally at 2pm I call to find out if my van is ready and I'm told that it's being washed now & should be ready in about half an hour. I leave work half an hour later and drive about half an hour plus stopping to get gas in the rental and when I get there my van is still MIA.
It was still being washed.
Which, at that point, you'd have expected it to be really well detailed and not having trash from the car guys in it. Too bad neither of those things were true.
By the end of the day, finally getting into my van, my baby, my Other Child and I was so happy to finally have my van back.
And, yes. I totally, legitimately flew off the handle.
Because at this point I was over this shop and their bullshit and now they've fucked up my van?
SweetPea graciously offers to drive the van out there the next day to discuss the possibilities, so I take her van in to work. I spend some time looking at old pictures and pictures of other vans the same make & model, trying to figure out if there's anything really wrong with the van.
Because, yes, I overreacted.
That night, after a full day of driving, SweetPea stopped for gas and filled the tank.
When she got back in the van & turned it on, the gas gauge didn't budge.
And then the engine light came on.
Which is how you know you have well and truly pissed off whatever gods are in charge of vehicles.
The going suspicion is that the issue is in the fuel sensor.
She has an appointment at the van doctor on Tuesday.
And I have a new rental.
PS: And let's not even get into the day SweetPea was stranded at home all day because I lost the van keys. Oh, Mercury. What a vicious trickster you are.