I am an excellent reader. When the “service engine” light comes on, I recognize the words, but I do not know what they mean. I do not know what automobile maintenance I have neglected. Not knowing, I keep driving because, well, ignorance is bliss.
Sugar, my handywoman wife, is more concerned about earthly things than am I. I have faith that mechanical devices can, well, heal themselves. Plus, we have the Gold Plus AAA membership for roadside assistance and towing.
So Sugar, who is also an excellent reader, saw the dashboard warning and decided that we should take our car to the dealer to be serviced. So we did.
It took about twenty minutes for the service department to change the oil and do whatever mysterious manipulations that resulted in the service engine light going out. Apparently, all is well.
During those twenty minutes, we were invited to wait in the area where coffee and cookies are available. That area is, coincidently, immediately adjacent to the new car show room. Persons who bring their vehicles in for service are allowed to loiter by the new cars. One can either do that or watch the Food Channel on the overhead TV in the waiting area.
During those twenty minutes, Sugar found a car that she liked, a used one on the lot, and wanted to make an offer. So we did.
After a few hours, we drove it home. No, Sugar drove it home. One of us had to drive the car what brung us. You remember — the one that has its service up to date.
Next time that light goes on, I will secretly take the car to the dealership by myself.