Peachy-Breezy-Jeepy.

The daily journey to work is a crucial part of a routine, and how efficient you are depends greatly on your method of transportation. Some people rely on public transport, while others are inseparable from their own vehicle. Your car is like a vital component in a factory, constantly in motion to ensure productivity all year round. Occasionally, this component may malfunction based on your maintenance schedule. Even with regular maintenance, if your vehicle is as old as your grandmother, it might be time to upgrade to a newer model. Don’t worry, it’s just the cycle of life – new things replace the old, and everyone is always looking for the latest and greatest, usually opting for a younger version.

As a family with only one vehicle, we heavily rely on our vehicle. I handle all the pickups and drop-offs like an Amazon delivery person, making sure no package is left behind or delivered to the wrong address (wrong Daycare). If a package mistakenly ends up on my doorstep, I’m keeping it – no questions asked. It could be anything, even a clown’s makeup kit, but to me, it’s a gift from above, or should I say, from Jeff Bozos. Sorry, Mr. Bezos, the makeup kit got me clowning around with your name. We all appreciate your “packages,” but they could be better if you make them BIG-ger & BLACK-er. *wink*

One glorious afternoon, on the way home from conquering a hardworking day (was hardly working), my chariot began a suspicious jig. It bounced like a toddler on a sugar high, which wouldn’t be a problem if I wasn’t due to pick up my own tiny hurricane from daycare.

Pulling over with the grace of a drunken tap dancer, I diagnosed the culprit: a defunct air suspension. Now, my Jeep looked less like a conquering chariot and more like a wannabe lowrider stuck halfway down. Time for some creative problem-solving.

Cranking up Gin & Juice song by Snoop Dogg (because lowrider vibes!), I channeled my inner West Coast gangster (minus the hydraulics) and drove with one hand on the wheel, the other strategically placed near a nonexistent ejector seat button (toddlers are escape artists in training, you know).

At a red light, a fellow motorist rolled down his window, clearly impressed by my unintentional lowrider effect. “Dude, that’s slammed! Hit the switches!” he yelled with a grin.  By switches, I think he meant my imaginary hydraulics, but I obviously declined and replied that my “Switches” only Twitches for Bitches. Either I was in serious rap mode at this point, or I managed to get drunk from the song “Gin & Juice”. I have no idea where that S-T-B line came from.

After picking up my little one from Daycare, he immediately started giggling as we left the building and headed towards My Jeep. It was heartwarming to see him pointing and laughing. Even though he’s not quite 3 years old yet, he’s starting to put together more complete sentences. I can always tell when he’s laughing at me as opposed to laughing with me. I buckled him into his car seat and warned him that if he laughed again, he’d have to walk home. “You’re grounded,” I told him jokingly. This time, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he gave me a cheeky grin, almost as if to say that being grounded applies to the Jeep, not him.

Inflation’s hitting and biting us harder than Prime Mike Tyson, and now my car decides to play “Car-alytics.” Great, just what I need – a mechanic bill that could rival my property tax (seriously, why are those always due at the most inconvenient times?). The worst part? I wouldn’t know a spark plug from a spork under the hood. Took me 1 year to realize my car battery was located under the passenger seat. Common! That is not what I call easily accessible. That’s like nature putting my Johnson at the middle of my back. You can only reach it if you are lean & skinny not broad & muscular; Goodluck Dwayne.

Suspension or transmission problems? Those sound fancy and expensive, like words you only hear at a yacht club with Men smoking Cuban Cigars and sipping on Macallan Scotch. And don’t even get me started on mechanics! Finding a good one feels like searching for a unicorn that does oil changes. You know the struggle – you go to a local shop, hoping for a friendly neighborhood vibe, and some grease-stained dude tells you, “Only the dealership can fix this!” Like, dude-ly alerted buddy, thanks for the reassurance. “Dealership” is basically a synonym for “second mortgage” in my vocabulary.

So, with a deep breath and a silent prayer to car gods and Autobots (Optimus Prime), I call up Crosstown Chrysler. Booking an appointment felt like signing a contract to trade-in my firstborn (although, maybe that’s just a touch dramatic). Then, meet my service rep: Chad Graves. Now, let’s be honest, the name “Chad Graves” doesn’t exactly scream “budget-friendly mechanic.” More like “drives a monster truck and only accepts payment in fistfuls of cash.”

It’s Monday morning, and I’m already questioning my life choices thanks to my car. I walk into Crosstown Chrysler feeling like an episode of Spartacus, I’m about to enter a gladiatorial arena. But hey, at least the service rep, Chad Graves, didn’t look like he’d throw me into the mechanic lions Den. Dude even offered to call me an Uber to work! Talk about a plot twist!

The rest of the day was spent in a state of nervous sweat like waiting for results of an HIV test, constantly looking at my phone like a teenager waiting for their crush to text back. Finally, the call came. Brace yourselves, folks, because the news wasn’t great. Turns out my Jeep’s air suspension was about as functional as the Nigerian Government and fixing it would cost more than a trip to Tahiti (complete with Mai Tais).

Now, let me tell you, staring at my bank account at that moment was like staring into the abyss – except the abyss had fewer zeros. Financing crossed my mind, but with a wife on maternity leave and a toddler with the appetite of a sumo wrestler, let’s just say my credit card was already singing the blues. There is no way I could SWING up that kind of DOUGH even if I BATTER-UP.

Just when I was about to resign myself to hitchhiking for rides and practicing my thumbs-up finger roll, Chad, throws me a lifeline! Apparently, there’s a way to ditch the fancy air suspension and replace it with, well, regular suspension. And guess what? It wouldn’t cost me a small fortune! Let me tell you, I jumped on that option faster than a kid on a free candy day.

So, my Jeep gets fixed – huzzah! Chad, the mechanic who isn’t actually a gladiator (bonus points!), even sends an Uber, to bring me back from work. Everything’s looking Peachy-Breezy-Jeepy!

Fast forward a couple of weeks. My phone rings with a number from “CrossTown Chrysler Dodge Jeep Ram.” Now, let’s be honest, after the whole car fiasco, answering that felt like picking up a call from a telemarketer trying to sell me an extended warranty on my $20.00 toaster. Voicemail it is, yeah! get a taste of my welcome message in a very thick African accent.

But curiosity (and maybe a smidge of hope) gets the better of me on the second call. And guess who’s on the other end? Chad Graves, back from his tropical vacation (living the dream, that guy!). Turns out, while sipping Mojito on a beach somewhere, he noticed I got charged a bit more than necessary for the repairs. Like, a cool $656.90 more!

Let me tell you, hearing that was like winning a BINGO lottery. My inner squirrel went nuts. Because let’s be real, between a family and a Jeep with an insatiable need for gas (Go EV already and electric-cute yourself), extra cash is like finding a Deadman’s chest from Pirates of the Caribbean.

So, the moral of the story? Even dealerships can have happy endings (You thinking about “Miracle Hands” Massage Parlor?) Plus, who knows, maybe your car troubles will come with a bonus refund – enough to buy a few extra gallons of gas for your Jeep-ing adventures!  Don’t despair when your car throws a tantrum. Sometimes, all it takes is a mechanic with a heart of gold (and maybe a slightly less intimidating name) to save the day. Big Thanks to CrossTown Chrysler Dodge Jeep Ram and special thanks to Chad Graves.

CrossTown Chrysler is located at 15520 123 Avenue Edmonton AB and no they did not pay me to write this. You should know that given my choice of words.

Bye Folks-Till next time.