Closet Extremist

Remember how I "love being a mechanic"?

Well... The other frickin' shoe dropped on me. I made it about twenty miles on my new wheel cylinder this morning. Unfortunately, the job I'm on is twenty-five miles away. Something went Evil in that brake drum. Lots of scraping metal on metal noises, and I could feel whatever was caught in the drum actually slowing my vehicle down. I knew that this was going to be bad.

I slowed down to the soft shoulder of the road, and got out to see if there was anything I could do. When I peeked behind the tire to inspect things, all I saw was brake fluid bleeding out from the edges of the drum. A few choice metaphors was all the positive impact I could make on the situation, as I had to get to work. I rolled on a quarter of a mile to the nearest gas station, and shut her down, (It's a lot better than leaving it on the shoulder of an Interstate Highway.) and called Kev to come and get me so I could get to work. I went on into the establishment to let them know that there was to be a disabled vehicle in their drive for the duration of the day, and went back outside to wait for Kevin. Amazingly I see the distinctive and familiar Logo of the company I work for emblazoned on a van sitting at one of the fuel pumps. It was Phil, and he was willing to give me a ride up to the Hospital. Called Kevin and let him know the new dynamic, and rode on into work with Phil.

I spent most of the day worried about what was going on with my van, so I wasn't as productive as I normally am. However, George (the guy who is dedicated to the Hospital to maintain their Fifty-Five elevator's, and who happens to live on a houseboat that I painted the name on.) was willing to give me a ride back to my van, and take me to the parts store afterward. Thank goodness, he was willing to do this, otherwise I'd have had to bother my parents or my sister (who was sweet enough to call and check on the situation late in the day today.) but he made all that unnecessary.

Once I got back to my car, I immediately commenced to pull the wheel off to see what the issue was. As soon as it came off, I pulled on the brake drum, and it fell off of the wheel studs in several pieces. It was a nightmare. The drum itself was split into two peices, one of the brake shoes was destroyed, and all of the assorted other pieces fell out onto the ground. Essentially, the entire back brake on that side needed to be replaced. Off to the parts store we went, and 1 hour and Seventy dollars later, we were back at my van ready to do some work. A half an hour after that, I had my brakes reassembled, and got back on the road. Things still aren't perfect though, as there is not as much pedal pressure as there should be, but at least I can make it to work in the morning. I lost enough brake fluid to warrant an entire brake system bleed down, but after I got home tonight, I was just not in the mood.

I'm tired and I'm greasy, and I have to be at work early on the morrow. Screw it. I'll fix it tomorrow night. These are the times when I hate being a mechanic.