It’s a new thing to me, sending my car for servicing. Having no car before. The only previous experience I had was accompanying my father to the Toyota service centre in Seremban.
It’s a weird thing to do, being here at the Perodua Service Center on a Saturday. Normally I would have probably be in bed or watch whatever was on tv. The service center only opens until 12.30pm on Saturdays and that’s the only time most people. That stands to reason why why I have to wait now.
I arrived at 8.45 whereas the service center open their doors at 8.30 which is the time I think most of the people ahead of me was at the gates. Only being 15 minutes and I was looking at a full room of people already waiting for their car to be serviced.
The tv was loud in the waiting room, showing a raya special hosted by Aznil. I guessed it must have been last year’s at the least, for among the guest was Din Beramboi who died recently earlier in the year due to Haemorrhaging Dengue (or what I call it Bloody Dengue).
It’s weird being in a room of people where if they were not being nose deep reading their newspaper or staring out somewhere or at particular thing, there were smiling in a wide grin or tittering watching a recently died man making impromptu jokes on the tv.
Nobody ever talks in the waiting room except with people they have brought along. Maybe because the others came in different cars.
while writing this, I heard the service advisor call out my car-plate number, or I thought he did because when I got up, someone else also got up. When he got to a service advisor, he confirmed his car number that have the same beginning two digits as mine.
To cover for my awkwardness I returned my left earbud to my ear and deliberately picked something up from the magazine rack. I picked up ‘estidotmy’, a glossy newspaper supplement jointly produced by the Ministry of Science, Technology and Innovation or Mosti, it’s cute abbreviation.
I was still standing at the magazine rack when I heard a service advisor, the one that took my car from the parking lot into the service area, call out my car number, no mistake. Maybe I did correctly heard my number just now or maybe I did not. I just felt awkward.
I sat at the chair in front of him, glossy supplement aimed at children and early teens in hand. The advisor explained to me that my brake cable was loose was the reason for the knocking sound that I said to him I never noticed before. He said that it would needed to be ‘greased’, which I had not expecting. I asked how much that was. He said fifteen ringgit much to my relief. Then he said that the mechanic in charge of my car said that the my car battery was at the end of it’s life. Straight away I asked how much was it. he blurted out, “One hundred fifty” or was it “One hundred fifteen”? I am not sure now. But I think it was my stern face and item by item questioning of prices that made the advisor uncomfortable. Or was it the knowledge that he was ripping me off? Only he would know.
Then I gave my agreement to the advisor, much to his apparent relief.
I sat back to one of the couches in the waiting area and proceeded to leaf through that glossy supplement, finding that, much to my disappointment, it’s quality has dropped significantly since I last read it about five years ago. Basic run through revealed an article in English which was titled, really, ’Natural Rubber can protect structures from quakes earth’.
Disappointed, I lost all interest reading the glossy supplement and leafed through quickly to the back. Revealing some short articles that was designed beautifully but ultimately was hollow and uninteresting.
Then, there was a movie on the tv. A Senario movie, I forgot whether in was the second or the third, It was the one with the trip to the east coast. Thirty minutes through the movie, everybody’s eyes in the room showed noticable sleepiness. I find myself joining their collective drowsiness and noticing that it was my second hour here.
I guess I need to take a walk.
p/s the car now rides like a dream
