Car Trouble.

Once a car reaches a certain age, it has to pass an annual test. Last spring, our car was due for this "controlle technique," it's called. John's travel schedule was hectic, so I volunteered to handle this whole process and cleared my schedule to do so.

I went, I waited, I spoke french - although it was automotive words, so I didn't speak enough of it or very well. And after the mechanics determined this very fact, they stopped talking to me. I was waved through the test and pointed in the direction of the office to pay the bill. It was only after the big red document came off the printer that I realized I failed.

The people in line behind me tried to help me understand what the problem was, but the information was vague. Something about the headlight alignment, and something else about the parking break. Bottom line, I had two weeks to get it fixed and back to the testing center. I drove straight to a mechanic's shop with my paperwork, where I secured an appointment, for the first available time - which was sometime the next week. They assured me they could fix everything to retake the test and pass.

I went to the appointment, and was surprised to be out within the hour. With only a 15 euro bill for something to do with the lights. "But what about the break?" I asked. "Oh, we don't do that here," I was told, "you'll have to go to the dealership," they said. Hmm. So I drove straight to the dealership. And begged for an appointment for sometime that week. Then I told them I would wait with the car. They hate when people stay with the car, they always want us to drop it off and then it usually takes them three days. Not so easy when you only have one car.

I had one day after the dealership to get the car back for my retest. I went to the dealership, prepared for a long day, and to my surprise, was out of there before lunch. With enough time to go get the car retested. Did I mention it was all before lunch?

Success!

This was all a boring build-up to get to the next part. The following week, the car made that "clicky-clicky" noise indicating that one of the turn signals was burnt out. Sigh. When I took my driver's ed class, I think we learned basic car maintenance, like how to change a lightbulb. But now, when I pop the hood of our Chevy, the inside is so complicated, you can't even see how to open anything near the lightbulb, let alone change it.

On the way to school, the boys tutored me in all the ways to say "light bulb" in french. I drove back to the garage that fixed the light alignment. They were my buddies now. Feeling more confident with my automotive words, I asked for them to change the lightbulb. I used every word that A.J. taught me. Me and the mechanic, we both nodded our understanding. He even had time to fix it right then.

I got back in the car, turned out of the parking lot and heard the "clicky-clicky" noise again. I turned back into the lot and went back into the shop. This time, they got the guy that spoke english. Turns out, the original guy (the one that nodded and smiled a lot) thought I meant I had a leak in my tire and he tested the tire for leaks. There weren't any. No kidding. They said they'd be happy to fix the lightbulb, but didn't have an appointment for that until later that afternoon.

Are you kidding me? How many Belgian mechanics does it take to change a lightbulb, anyway?

I drove home, handed the keys to John and said "I give up. You're in charge of getting the lightbulb changed."

And guess what? Just yesterday, the same lightbulb started making the clicky-clicky noise again. I think it's a conspiracy.