Colour Me Impressed

In a bit of a rage over the car being vandalised, I rang Kelly's Garage in Rathmines at angry o' clock this morning to see if they'd be able to fix my wing mirror. I spoke to a sexy sounding mechanic who advised me pleasantly to call back at a reasonable hour (i.e. when the garage was open and I wasn't in a tantrum) and he'd see what he could do.

So I called 3 other garages and got sent from Billy to Jack, had to go down to the car to see if the mirror was electric or manual, and then again to check the car registration, and then again to open the bonnet and get the chassis number (fucking Peugeot dealer...). Eventually Peugeot said they'd do it for me tomorrow for the obnoxious price of €47. Great.

Then Fred, the sexy sounding mechanic's amiable sidekick, left a voicemail asking me to call him back when I got the chance. I did, he had a mirror, I drove the 200 yards down the road and spent a pleasant 5 minutes talking shite with him while one of the "boys" glued on the new mirror "for this very pretty young lady here". It cost me €8.30.

I didn't get to meet the sexy sounding mechanic, but I'm going to smash the passenger wing mirror later and give Fred a call again in the morning.