I was at Mr. Lube, intending on getting a $50 oil change. $230 later, I am broke and sad.
I feel like an elderly person who paid in advance for someone (like Jim Treliving) to come clean her eaves troughs… and no one came.
The guy said I NEEDED to flush my engine and I NEEDED transmission fluid. It couldn’t wait. It had to be done now. “Look!” he exclaims, showing me a dipstick, which looks normal to me. “This needs to be fixed as soon as possible!”
My husband confirms I was fooled.
Word to the wise: The damsel in distress is not cute; she is a character to be exploited. In the future, I resolve to be her.