"Seat Safety Switch" (seat-safety-switch)
11/17/2015 at 11:35 • Filed to: just mercedes things, paxton superchargers, service writer, outstanding recalls
12
1|
"Seat Safety Switch" (seat-safety-switch)
11/17/2015 at 11:35 • Filed to: just mercedes things, paxton superchargers, service writer, outstanding recalls | 12
| 1 |
The service writer hits the manicured tile floor as four hundred and ninety six cubic inches of chattering American V8 hit fill the room, their arrival heralded like distant kings by the wailing cowboy ballad of twin Paxton roots blowers.
I grab him by the lapels and haul him onto the counter, screaming to be heard over the sound of the idle: I HAVE OUTSTANDING RECALLS.
He weakly motions to the background, for a lot boy to take my car while we finish the paperwork. I can smell the lot boy’s fear. He knows that soon they will speak of him in whispered story, the past-tense. They will etch his name into the marble of the dealership forecourt’s memorial wall.
We make eye contact. Only in that moment does he realize the inescapable consequences of his actions in accepting my car, the loosely wound paper key tag in his hand reminding him of who brought the car in, as if anyone could ever forget. He shakes like a voltmeter on a dirty ground. I reach over and pat the gunsight hood ornament, beckoning him closer. It’s not going to bite; it ate a Mustang on its way in.
The lot boy sits in the plush leather power seat and pulls the massive coupe doors shut. They latch with the finality of a gunshot, and I see sweat bead on his face as he puts the 560SEC into gear. He rides the brakes the entire way out of the service pit, ramrod straight in the seat, mouthing a silent prayer to a nonexistent deity to keep the superchargers from waking up. I know it will only take a short time.
My primer-black baleen tank slowly recedes to the back of the lot, before suddenly igniting an off-idle burnout that blacks out the sun with tire smoke and forces the advisor to hit the floor again, this time with a voided bladder.
I offer a hand to pick up the service advisor. I smile broadly and chuckle, visibly pleased that my car has finally found a worthy valet after so many years. He tries to paper over what has transpired between us with a false smile of his own, but some defeated part of him knows he has failed the test and will never pass into legend as the lot boy has. At last, he sighs.
“We’ll replace your headlight leveller switch immediately, sir.”
obrohno
> Seat Safety Switch
12/17/2015 at 14:37 |
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yes!