Awhile back, we had brakes and lights installed on our little 5×8 utility trailer. The trailer shop we went to did a horrible job – although it took us awhile to realize it, because if we knew anything about wiring a trailer and van up, we’d have done ourselves.
Finally, a good friend who is also an experienced mechanic, told us that – no, it really wasn’t us, it was the poor job – and to take it back and have them fix it.
Mr. Caffeinated called the shop over a week ago and explained the problem. He also told them that we’re moving soon, and that we really needed the trailer up and operational.
They said they couldn’t get us in until today. So Mr. Caffeinated took the van and trailer in, bright and early.
That’s when they said, “Oh… we don’t do electrical work anymore. Haven’t in months. Too much liability. Why don’t you take it to some guy we recommend that’s an additional half hour away? [and in the wrong direction]”
! ! !
At the moment, we don’t have a trailer with lights OR brakes… and the van won’t work with any OTHER trailer either, since the system on it is dysfunctional as well.
So Mr. Caffeinated came home. I took the van to the chiropractor’s, and decided to gas up on the way home.
Except… my credit card wouldn’t work. Which makes no sense. We pay it off every month; we have excellent credit. I mean, we just got a mortgage, and in this market!
Mr. Caffeinated called the credit card company, Citibank. Turns out there was someone using our credit card number at a couple of arcades yesterday, so they froze the account.
Now, don’t get me wrong… I’m glad they have anti-theft software and can catch these sorts of things early. But couldn’t they have called and let me know, rather than me having a gas attendant treat me like I was either (a) clueless and (b) a criminal for using a defunct card?
The account is now closed.
I called a friend to vent… and she had the exact same thing happen this past weekend as well! But, since she had a card with a different company, they called her.
About the time I was REALLY feeling sorry for myself, I found out that Mrs. H, who was just moved by the Navy across the country (literally coast to coast), at 7 ½ months pregnant, had her stuff finally delivered (weeks late) – and they destroyed her chest freezer and her nice grill. The movers were drunk. Every piece of furniture was scratched and bunged up. They claimed they received the freezer in that condition. (Really?! Squashed flat, walls broken, seal ruined?) They took out a cable line with their truck as a grand finale.
I guess I don’t have it all that bad after all.
Back to packing…