This Sunday I took my car into the local Walmart for an oil change. This overdue oil change unfortunately waited a thousand miles or two over the suggested miles between such fun events. I decided to make a stop down at the local Walmart, the purveyor of everything good, cheap, American, and plastic for the scheduled maintenance.
At Walmart I found that the last mechanic who had worked on my car kindly stripped the oil plug, the technical name for the thingy that holds the oil in the bottom of your car. The tired looking Walmart technician (wannabe mechanic who works the desk) informed me that they can remove it but they can't replace it. A 99 Escort model apparently isn't an oil plug they carry, as it isn't exactly a popular car in SUV land. It looked like it had to have come from a Ford shop.
The local Ford place in my parent's hometown did my last oil change. The assholes had snuck it in on a 60K mile maintenance, just after my previous oil change. The sticker stated a clear mileage beyond the then current odometer reading but they did it anyway. These are the same fuckups that tried to kill me by leaving my fuel filter halfway installed and not fixing my IAC valve. Great to leave someone driving away in a car that stops all of the time—thanks to the IAC valve it may die while idling—and a fuel filter that could explode any time I crank the damn thing.
They must have it out for me or something.
Sometimes cars seem to get more use out of me, dragging their asses around to be repaired, than I get out of them, driving.