You could say it’s been an interesting few weeks for my car. It’s been involved with the police, been locked up in a warehouse for several days, cost me a small fortune and caused me to be late for work three days in a row.
It started three weekends ago when some lovely soul smashed in my drivers side window. They didn’t steal anything, which is somewhat of a consolation, in fact they didn’t even open the door. Just smashed a window and dented the door in the process.
So, our Saturday was spent on the phone to the police to report the incident and to the insurance company to sort out a new window. I call Aviva to make the claim, get transferred direct to Auto Windscreens for them to take the details. So far so normal. They say they’ll pass my details to one of their operatives who will call me to arrange a time for the repairs.
Kat and I took some photos of the damage and then set about cleaning up the broken glass, enough so that I could drive the car down the road and park by our flat so I could keep an eye on it. After an hour or so, around mid-afternoon, they called back and said they didn’t have anyone in the area who could do the work until Sunday night. And by night I mean 2am. Queue a string of questions from me; Riiiight, what am I supposed to do until then? Leave the car outside with no window? Will you cover me if my car now gets stolen because they can get in through the non-window?
They offered to let me put my car in their warehouse where it could stay until the work was done. I just had to wait until someone would be at the warehouse to go down and meet them. Sods law meant that the guy phoned to let me know he was there just as dinner was coming out of the oven.
So Monday morning rolls around and I’d not had a message about the car, so I take the bus to work. Tuesday morning, still not heard anything. Another bus trip to work. I chased them up on Tuesday, the guy on the phone said “it looks like the work has been done, according to the computer”. Brilliant, was someone planning on telling me? He offered to call the warehouse and arrange a call from them so I could sort out a time to pick up the car.
Wednesday rolls around and a third bus trip to work. They’ve had my car four nights now, all for one little window. Finally they call during the afternoon, the car’s ready. They’ll be there until 5.30. I’m at work til 5. And my bus doesn’t come until 5.25. The manager agrees to wait until 6, but chances are that’s still not enough time for me to get there. In the end Kat has to get a taxi from work to their warehouse to pay the £75 excess and pick up the keys. Then she has to wait for me to get there because she’s not passed her test yet.
Finally we had our car back. Still covered in glass shards and dust, mind. So the weekend before last we took the car to be properly cleaned, a full valet. Now the car is as clean as it has ever been. So much so Kat has now realised it’s a silver car, not a grey one.
So, after £75 insurance excess, £30 valet and £15 bus fare we’re back on the road.
Until this past Monday.
Slight rattle in the car grew worse over the weekend so I mentioned it to the garage, where it was already booked in for an MOT. The fact that I dropped it into them, rather than the previously arranged pick-up that they offered, meant I was late for work. But at least it was a one off. At least that’s what I thought.
I get a call in the afternoon saying the rattle was nothing important, something came loose and they sorted it out, no repairs needed. They told me they were going to go ahead with the MOT and if there was any problems they’d call me, otherwise I could pick the car up later.
Sadly I didn’t get to the garage before they closed at 5.30, but planned to pick it up on Tuesday morning. But when I get there in the morning I get an odd look from the guy in reception. “Did Rich not call you?” Er, no he didn’t. Turns out the car failed the MOT, a very minor fault in the wiring to the light on the number plate! “Do you want us to sort that out for you today?”
So after another walk to the bus stop and another hot bus journey I’m late again, even more so this time. And I still don’t have my car. Fortunately they called in the afternoon to say it’s all sorted and ready to pick up. Unfortunately I miss my bus and don’t get to the garage in time, so it’s another morning walk to the garage for me.
This morning I get there to find no-one in reception. I stick my head round the door into the workshop to try and get someone’s attention but no luck. Finally I decide to phone them in order to draw someone into reception. Once someone eventually manages to notice me I pay for the MOT and half an hours labour for sorting the problems. Half an hour? Is that how long it took? They have my car for two days and it only took half an hour?
All the faffing means I’m late for work again. But at least I’ve got my car back, again, and it’s all running perfectly (touch wood). I’m just hoping that after all this there’s no more costs… oh wait, what’s that? Car tax due next week? Brilliant…