Dealing with Morons. Part One.

An oil cap is a device you fit on the top of your oil tank and it’s sole purpose is to stop oil from spraying all over your engine which may result in fire. It is an important element of any motor vehicle. Unless you are Mr Woog and do a very very rare manly look under the bonnet of the Mazda, do a bit of tinkering and take off the oil cap, only to lose it.
And then it is Monday morning and the whole thing becomes MY problem.
Took the Woogettes to school and drove straight to the Mazda Service Centre where I explained that I needed an oil cap. I was directed to the spare parts office. I stood at the counter thinking, well this is easy, I just get my oil cap and I am on my way.
A man, who we shall call Lurch, ambled up to the counter. I asked “Can I please purchase an oil cap for my car.” Lurch kind of stared at me. I repeated my request. He was all like “make, model, year etc” and I gave him the info. He stared at me. He had the demeanor of a simpleton crossed with a moron. Lurch spent 20 minutes staring at a computer screen. Occasionally he would mumble something, then stare at me, like he was expecting me to laugh or say something back. I was so close to saying to him “Can you just go and grab someone else, anyone else, for me to deal with?”
Someone from the back office walked past Lurch and asked him a question to which Lurch yelled “Can’t you see I am helping this lady????” and I was standing there thinking “Well you are not really helping me… you are kind of super creepy and if I had to work with you I think I would rather die…” Lurch continued to click away, giving me regular updates on how his monitor was “not right” mixed in with moments of staring at me, waiting for me to say something.
Eventually, he looked up at me triumphantly and announced that indeed there were no suitable oil caps in the country and he could order me one from Japan and it would take 4 weeks and in the meantime I was not to drive the car and I was to go and hire a car from one of the many car hire places in the local area and that his monitor was acting up.
I said, “Excuse me?”
The love child of George Bush and the Bride of Frankenstein repeated his statement. I told his that this was not a reasonable result for me. That I was not going to accept that this was the best that could be done. That something more had to be done. Lurch suggested I call around the wreckers and try and track down an oil cap. I asked Lurch to write down what exactly I needed to ask for. Lurch said with a smirk “Just remember V6 3 litre Mazda oil cap for a 2001 Tribute” which probably does not sound hard to remember, but I just wanted him to write it down. He was kind of refusing to write it down. He was insisting I would remember. So I said “GET ME A PIECE OF PAPER AND A PEN AND I WILL WRITE IT DOWN MYSELF “

Stared.

I got my bit of paper and told Lurch that this indeed had been a most unsatisfactory experience. But I may have used some different tones and language. And Lurch, if there is by some chance that this post ends up on your fucked up monitor and you recognise this scenario, I meant what I said. You are a fucking imbecile.
I drove (when I clearly was risking my life) home, stopping at the servo where I purchased a packet of cigarettes, opened them up in the store, selected one and threw the rest in the bin. I got home and smoked that cigarette.
Then I googled car wreckers. It may come as a surprise to you, but car wreckers have had no customer service training. I would introduce myself on the phone and present my request, that being for an oil plug for a 3L V6 2001 Madza Tribute. I got grunted at and hung up on. I suspected Lurch had escaped his family’s Car Wreckers Yard and got a job at Mazda when the Madza bosses were tripping.
It all looked hopeless. I burst into tears. And called Mr Woog and did a bit of yelling. Then something happened…….
TO BE CONTINUED……………………………………………………