Remember how I was excited about my car being back in my hands? I still remember that feeling of joy and spices, however brief it was.
Why brief? Because all last week there was a light, lingering smell of gas in my car. I attributed it to leftover gas smell from when The Dad and Mister E replaced the fuel pump. But when we were on our way to the store after taking our walk on the trails, I stopped to get gas. When I filled the tank halfway, the smell got much worse and when I went out to go to the gym the next morning it was almost unbearable. Fumes, children, so many fumes.
Since The Dad was the chief engineer on the ‘Fix Geekerella’s Ride’ Project, I called him up and asked the big question. “Are you sure you two fixed it properly?” I didn’t phrase it quite like that but it was close. His advice was to have us pull out the backseat again and look at the fuel pump.
We did as he said and discovered that the fuel pump was indeed not sitting in there properly. About half the tabs on the pump assembly weren’t under the retaining ring and it was popped slightly up. This was where the fumes from the gas were coming from. The Dad swore up and down that when they put it in, it was completely sealed and that Mister E should just pop off the retaining ring, re-seat it and have done with it.
Mister E was not down with this plan. In spite of the unlimited potential contained in the tools in his mom’s husband V’s garage, he was not confident enough with his mechanical aptitude to fix it without The Dad around to help him. Our only other option was to take it back to the mechanic, because The Dad was certain that they had taken the fuel pump out to look at it and hadn’t put it back in properly. With this in mind, we took it back to them yesterday and once again left my sad little beater sitting in the lot.
They called me up a little bit ago and confirmed that yes, the fuel pump was not seated in there correctly and that was the cause of the fumes. “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, being half-asleep from being up half the night watching Yakitate!! Japan. “It’s going to cost $95 to take it out, put in a new gasket and reinstall the fuel pump,” replied the mechanic. Dang.
I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how pleased with this new development The Dad is. Telling you that he wants them to save the old gasket for him to look at when he comes down here should give you an idea of how the conversation went. But since he doesn’t want me to die from inhalation of gas fumes he told me he’d take care of it.
So tomorrow I should have a working car again. I know, I know, I’ve said this before. It should actually be done this afternoon, but I probably won’t have the money in my account until tomorrow so it’ll have to sit at the shop until I can get there with the $95, which will likely involve me riding the bus. And in case you’ve never been to Lamesville, that’s a whole different situation than riding the bus in Chicago.
I’ll keep you posted. I might even tell you more about Yakitate!! Japan.