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In the suburbs where I live I never get a chance to speak in Spanish. Even the few native speakers of Spanish that live around here prefer to converse in English. There's a tendency for people to want to blend in, to be accepted, maybe that's why. So, on our annual visit to Southern Florida, I love to listen to people speak in Spanish. Here, even in the suburbs, you hear Spanish everywhere. You can converse with native speakers from Cuba, Colombia, Venezuela, Costa Rica, from basically just about any Latin American country. Muy bien!
I took my car to the local dealer at Weston to find out if it were on the recall list. Why didn't I just wait until I got back home?! Anyhow, I arrived at noon, hoping to hear, "No, senora. You're car is NOT on the recall list." After a lot of clicking of keys, nodding of heads and startled exclamations, it was figured out that maybe, perhaps, quite possibly, my car was indeed on the recall list. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you, senora."
Now, the guy who said this, was kind of cute, in that he had great big eyes, lovely thick black hair, and spoke all the time with an endearing smile. When he talked of pedals and carpets, he smiled. He even smiled when he said it'd only take two hours to make the adjustments to my car. "Step inside, senora, where it's cooler for you. Help yourself to some water." He waved me away and took my car into the bowels of the service station where the mechanics awaited.
Inside I go. After half an hour I was fed up. Outside I go.
"Que pasa, senora?"
"Nothing. How much longer will it be before my car's ready?"
"Not long. Maybe an hour or so." He was still smiling.
This time I sat outside, on a nice wooden bench.
"You here for the recall?" It was an elderly woman with dyed red hair talking to me.
"So am I. It's a disgrace. Been here three hours, and they still haven't finished!" This was a short, chubby man talking to me, his hands wiping perspiration from his forehead.
"Bloody hell. What's the holdup?" That was me talking, pleased to get a chance to speak in Spanish.
"They say it's the computer. They need to re-programme the computer in my car, but the main computer isn't working."
"I've been here almost four hours." This time it was a young, slim woman talking. "And I need to get home soon for my kids."
We became firmly fondly friends as the minutes transpired into hours. My two hour wait became a three hour one, then a four hour one, then a four hour and 45 minute one. At least I got to speak in Spanish. That was good. I found out all sorts of details about their lives. The older woman had grandchildren and was absolutely petrified to drive her car in case the accelerator got stuck. She was scared of other people on the roads driving the same type of car in case their accelerator got stuck. The younger one was trying to give up smoking as she was worried about wrinkles around her mouth. The short, chubby man hated Chavez and compared him to Castro.
We were all in the same boat, frustrated and wanting to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. We had a good old moan and groan, and then, when our cars were finally ready, we let out a huge yell. Yeah!! The smiling guy had already left for the day. What a shame he missed our grinning faces smiling from ear to ear.
Have you ever had a vehicle or anything else that's been recalled?
