I couldn’t decide if a better title was “Looking for the part,” or “Looking the part,” for this little episode in my life, so I am choosing both.

 

Both of my daughters are leaving for their first jobs after completing their graduate degrees. Money is still tight for them (and for me). We want to make sure they are safe getting to their new locations, and when they get there.

 

One was going to Tennessee, the other to Kentucky. Not that close, but still drivable in terms of getting home. And they are still in the South, which I think is important – I just do.

 

After daughter number 1 got off, things looked like they were going smoothly. Only daughter number 2, the dogs and I were left to enjoy a couple of days together. Well, within hours of my first daughter leaving, my second daughter came in to inform me that one of rear windows would “not go back up.”

 

The first thing I did was call the fellows who I bought the car from. Usually dealerships are pretty good about helping their customers out. I simply said, “I have a daughter leaving in two days and we can’t get her rear window up – and by the way, I bought this car from you.”

The young man’s answer was, “We don’t have any appointments.”

 

Honestly, I could have asked to speak to a manager or someone else – but I did not. I didn’t deserve any special treatment, for all I know, everyone else who had cars being worked on, bought their cars from this dealership also. The young man was being honest and doing his job.

 

So, I got home and starting tearing apart the door, to see if I could see what was wrong with it. I hate taking door panels off and dealing with the “innards” of car doors because the space is so small and those little plastic things that hold the door panel on, always break. But I had no choice, daughter number 2 was leaving and I didn’t want to rent a car or send her off in mine (which was actually her first car). Daddies do those kinds of things – they drive the cars that are often on their last leg and have a high probability of leaving you on the side of the interstate.

 

Daddies don’t send their daughters off in those cars.

 

After a few choice words and broken little plastic things, I had tested everything that I thought it could be and diagnosed the problem. I needed a new “lift motor” for that window to go up.

 

I checked online and found the part I needed for anywhere between 40 and 60 dollars. The problem was it would take a minimum of three days to get to me, and there was not an overnight option.

 

After calling one more local dealer, who told me the parts I needed would be “around $500,” and the labor would be “almost $500.” This is the point that you get mad. Fortunately, it would take them “a couple of days” to get the part also. Honestly, they were probably buying it from the same guy selling it for around $50.

 

One more option was available to me, a junkyard that lets you go in and remove parts was about 45 minutes away. They call these places “Pick and Pulls,” for obvious reasons. They had a car that would have the part I needed to replace. Even at my age, I enjoy a good field trip. Daddy, who was always working on cars, used to take me the junkyard – so I have good memories.

 

This place, was like an amusement park. They even have a non-refundable admission charge of two dollars for you just to go into the junkyard and look around. And let me tell you, I am adding the $2 junkyard to places you must go. The amusement park next to my house charges you $50 or so to go in – I could go to this junkyard 25 times for that.

 

There was a food truck in the parking lot and the crowd coming in and out of there was what my Mama would call, “a little rough.” I don’t mind being with such folks, because honestly, “they are my people.”

 

After seeing the folks and finding out about the admission charge, I walked back to my car and put on a John Deere hat one of daughters dogs had chewed up and took out my front tooth. Then I walked in smiling and paid my two dollars.

 

It was a blast, but after walking around where the car was supposed to be that I intended on “pulling a part” from, I couldn’t find it. Going back in and checking with the fellow who took my two dollars, he said, “I’m pretty sure we ‘squished’ that one yesterday.”

 

I laughed, revealing my missed front tooth and thanked him.

 

We will just order the $50 part. I fixed my daughter’s window where it would stay up and be safe.

 

So if you are “Looking for the part,” you need to “Look the part,” and if you get a chance to spend two dollars to go to the junkyard, do it…

 

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