One of my Support Workers rang the Salesman to see what was going on as it had been a couple of days since I sent the email and I wanted to know when the car was being taken to my mechanic for the final inspection. The car was literally being driven to my mechanic when we rang so I thought that either the salesman or my mechanic would contact me within the hour or so.
It became like a standoff between the three of us. The Salesman probably assumed that the mechanic would contact me and visa versa and I didn’t want to be the annoying impatient customer either though I did need to know what the hell was going on. So I caved in to ringing my mechanic after a couple of hours of waiting for the phone to ring who reluctantly gave me the all clear with the main reason that it maybe difficult to source parts as it is not a common import. With this information I decided to go for it.
My Support Worker and I rang the Salesman who sheepishly said, it wouldn’t be ready for about a week because he scraped a door and was organising for it to go to a Panel Beater. Great! Out of all of the different people I have to hand the keys over to, the bloody Salesman damages the car and I have another week of very limited travel because Cookie Monster has not ever been the most reliable.
The day had arrived, I finally get my reliable car, Mr Snuffleupagus! Yay! The Salesman drove Mr Snuffleupagus out to my place and although I was excited especially when I saw him turn into my street I was apprehensive for some reason. And, yes, my gut feeling was spot on. That “Yay!” was very short lived when I drove my wheelchair into the spot where it would be anchored down.
As one of my Support Worker’s astutely picked up on the Test Drive, the bottom of my wheelchair prevented one of the wheelchair restraints from being released depending on how I positioned myself in the car. Although my Support Worker mentioned it at the time, no one else had noticed the impact it really had long-term until this time. So back Mr Snuffleupagus went, to get one of the wheelchair restraints repositioned.
What should have been a day and a half took another week. The second handover day was set and I had my list of things to check in my head before I would sign the papers for Mr Snuffleupagus to be mine. My checklist would have served me well if I had known that you need to look at paintwork from all angles to pick up any imperfections. The morning after I signed for Mr Snuffleupagus another Support Worker picked up on the colour difference and from wherever I look at poor old Mr Snuffleupagus his 50 shades of white are obvious to me now.
Although it is my hope that Mr Snuffleupagus will be with me for ever and I won’t have to buy another car, I hope that I have learnt a lesson.