While driving Pstyken home on Sunday, the car decided to develop a nasty whiiine. The whiiine developed into a hooowl, and then a graunch when trying to turn corners. I decided that this was likely an issue with the power steering, informed Tobermory of same, and we arranged to take it back to the garage from whence it came*. After all, it's only lived with us for a month...
I drove it in Tuesday morning (which was the soonest they could book it). I deliberately pulled in tightly, so that the maximum of horrible noises** could be arranged, and did the same while parking it. By the time I got out of the car, two salesmen and two managers had come haring over to find out what on earth
was going on.
I politely explained that I was the young lady with the Ford with power steering troubles, and everything was yes ma'am, no ma'am, here is a Mazda 6 as a courtesy car ma'am. I had three
of them arranging things - one chap finding insurance papers, one getting keys, general running about in my service. There was also the youngest salesman, who, on driving the car down to the service department, ran back up going "Man, what the HELL did you DO TO IT?" He was awarded death glares from his manager, and told in no uncertain terms to go fetch the Mazda for me. I was highly amused.
(Warranties are a lovely thing. It turns out the power steering pump had completely failed. )
Both Tobermory and I are still losing weight. Neither of us can entirely work out why, as we're not trying very hard - maybe we're eating better? Exercising more, having to run up and down the stairs at home? Sleeping sounder? Tapeworm? Anyway, this culminated in my need to buy a new pair of jeans, as my existing pair are a) two years old b) getting that dangerous white tinge at the seams and thin at the butt c) falling off. Owing to the weight loss, I have no idea what size my butt currently is
. So, I took four pairs of jeans into the fitting rooms, and a very helpful young saleslady followed me. Knowing this is a fairly slim-cut line, I optimistically tried on the size of pants I usually buy at old-lady stores.
Her: "How do those look?"
Me: "Weird. I think they're too tight."
Her: *opens door, investigates* "Actually, they're a size too large. Here, try the..."
Me: "Uh, how do I put this. I am fat. There is no way
I'll fit those."
Her: "You know how they say the customer is always right? Well, sometimes they're actually wrong, and please, try these on."
Me: *mutter grumble, shut door, change pants*
Me: *stare in mirror*
Her: *open door, grin* "See? Told you so!"
I bought the smaller size. They were $30 more than I intended to pay for a pair of jeans, but they're a skinny bitch line that I haven't been able to fit into since before I moved to Auckland
. I'm feeling rather pleased with myself, in fact.
* Second hand car purchased from a dealership. We were hoping for good things, but this was the third trip back in a month!
** I was getting a lot of looks from passers-by on my way in. Apparently the nasty noises were worse from the outside of the car.