It never makes the sound at the dealership.

I like things perfect.  I know, I know, that makes life challenging in an imperfect world, but I’m just being honest.  I like to buy the best and revel in its glory.  You know how they say no one uses all the buttons on the remote, that the features are wasted on the customers?  Not with me.  I read the manual.  I ferret out all the detail.  I’m the guy who comes over to your house and amazes you with what your products can do, or bores you talking about all this stuff you think is irrelevant.

I read every word of David Pogue’s Snow Leopard manual.  I really only got one good trick, but I’m going to reveal it to you now.

Launch Safari.

Go to the File menu.

There you’ll see a choice, about halfway down, "Mail Contents Of This Page".  It’s grayed out if the page isn’t fully loaded.  But if it is, click on the menu choice and the Web page in your browser comes up in Mail and you can send it to your buddy.  No link required.  No extra step.  The actual Web page!

Isn’t that cool?

It is.  To me anyway.

That’s just the kind of guy I am.  I get satisfaction when my stuff is humming, it puts a smile upon my face, it makes me feel glad all over.

And if it isn’t?  If there’s a glitch?  If there’s an imperfection?

I just can’t cope.

I know, I know that’s ridiculous.  But I get satisfaction from my objects.  It’s got something to do with what happened in my house growing up and I don’t know you well enough to tell you but…  Here goes, you don’t put yourself in the public eye if you’re well-adjusted, if you got all the love you need.  I’m writing for the pleasure, but also the positive feedback.  You see I’m broken.  And I’m going to the shrink to try and fix myself.  In the meantime, since I can trust my possessions more than people, if they function perfectly I’m in a good mood.  If they don’t…

I’m devastated.

I spent $1900 to get my transmission fixed.  For a problem I thought could never arise from starting a car with the reverse gear engaged.  It was an unlucky accident, I feel stupid enough to begin with, since I don’t really believe in accidents, I believe everything’s my fault.  But to pay all that money and still have a problem?  It makes me INSANE!

I noticed it driving right off the lot.  There was a thunk.  That was never there before.  I’d know.

Did I really hear it?

That’s where the testing is involved.  That’s where the OCD comes in.  And OCD therapy is about exposures, learning to cope with imperfection, but they also tell you to take care of real problems right away, not to obsess about them.

But I didn’t have time to take the car back.  I needed it.

And then I picked a date.

And here’s where the social anxiety comes in.  It’s almost easier not to go back, to suffer in silence.

You see I don’t tell anybody about my mental trauma, I’m fearful of being laughed at.

And when I anxiously showed up at the dealership two weeks ago, Daryl thought he knew what the problem was.  But he had a limited time period.  His theory didn’t pan out.  He tightened a few things, but he wouldn’t guarantee the problem was gone.

And it wasn’t.

Daryl said I could come back and he could put "electronic ears" on the car.

Huh?

I’m no mechanic, I just play one in real life.

I was sure it was the clutch.

I called to make an appointment but they wouldn’t give me a loaner.  It was a Catch-22 situation.  They only give loaners if they’re doing work…but weren’t they going to work on my car?

I knew I was not going to win this one.  I picked an empty day, today, and got Felice to pick me up after I dropped the car off.

This time I didn’t demonstrate the problem.  The last time it took a long time for it to manifest itself, and even though Daryl said he heard it, he’s such a nice guy I figured we’d be bullshitting, like last time, and the thud, the thunk, the clunk would go unheard.

So I just described it.  Said I thought it was the clutch.  Because after all, they just pulled the transmission and reinstalled it and the clutch and the noise was coming from the footwell and…

I had absolutely no confidence the problem would be rectified.  I know I heard it, it was getting worse, but would someone else?

And I’m embarrassed, that I’ve got a problem and that I want it fixed and it would be easier to buy a new car, they’re so cheap at the Subaru dealership, you can lease one for $159 a month!  Otherwise, to live with this problem forever…

And Daryl’s so different.  He’s nice and he’s friendly.  Usually encounters with the dealer are adversarial.  Been to BMW?  You feel like you’re interrupting the Beatles, bad Beatles, who need to work in secret.

I had no faith.

But Daryl just called.  He said it was a motor mount problem and he fixed it.

Huh?

And this is where devastation truly lies.  Having hope and ending up with these same hopes dashed.  Actually, my hope is gone, I don’t believe anything will go my way.  In life and love as well as fixing mechanical and electronic items.  Those people with confidence…where do they get it from?

So Daryl put on the electronic ears.  Drove with his partner.  Isolated the problem.  He said he had it nailed.

The motor mount was broken in the extraction of the transmission.

Now that makes sense.

But really?

Well I just drove home and didn’t hear the noise!  My inner flame is starting to burn a bit stronger.  I’m starting to believe.

My problem is solved.

So what do I do with all this?  Pat myself on the back for standing up for myself?  Daryl said the problem was obvious.  He heard it.  He described when he heard it, which matched my experience.

Do I beat myself up for believing the problem was unsolvable, and I’d have to exist in a living hell?

Or do I just relish the fact that my automobile is back in perfect shape, and when I’ve got the radio blaring and the sunroof is open and the turbo is whining I’ve got a smile on my face and everything is right in the world.