la truc

I’ve had a problem with my car I’ve been ignoring as long as possible. But with the spitty winter weather, I can’t ignore it anymore. The problem is that the windshield wiper fluid doesn’t spray when you push the button for it. Which means seeing out of my windshield is nearly impossible. You know it has to be bad for me to even notice; I’m notorious for keeping a dirty car. Years ago when I bought a convertible, my mom asked me how I was going to keep all my shit from flying out of it.

The real problem is that I don’t know the words necessary to explain this problem. I finally broke down Friday and got the owners manual out of my glove compartment, found the page that talks about windshield wipers. Armed with a page of nonsense and my freshly acquired vocabulary word “la truc” (which means “the thingie”) I dialed the dealership. I told the woman who answered I needed an appointment. She asked if it’s for routine service. No, I have a problem. Oh, then you need to talk to so-and-so, who is with a client. He’ll call you back. I assumed that meant he’d call me back before the US officially has a new president. But like everything else here, it didn’t happen quickly. So today since I was going to Carrefour anyway to have a crummy morning, I figured I’d stop at the dealer and try to get their attention in person.

I started with presumably the same woman who again told me I had to speak to the service guy. Who was on the phone. So I hovered around his desk and waited. Two phone calls later, he acknowledged my existence. I tried to explain the problem. Said “la truc blah blah blah”… then acted out spraying and wiping. That was when he stood up and suggested he just go look at the car.

At least I ended the embarrassing ordeal with an appointment. Although the guy couldn’t spell my name right no matter how many times I spelled it out. Whatever, I don’t think he’ll have any trouble remembering me.

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