Midget gems (or mechanics)

It's been a while since I last blogged; life in general does tend to get in the way sometimes, however I have a great need to get something of great importance off my chest. Followed soon by another few kid-isms very soon. But for now, here goes:

My beloved car (54 plate Ford Galaxy) went into the local Ford garage to have a repair made to the power steering recently. All of the work that needs doing on my car is done in the same place. The guy on the reception desk is, to be quite frank, a bit of an arse, but in general I never feel ripped off, or as if I'm being patronised due to being a member of the female gender. But what the bloody hell do they do in there???

First off, the seat has always moved. Now, I'm not a particularly long-legged being, about 32" inside leg (annoyingly - too long for standard leg jeans, and to short for long legs. Irritates the shit out of me). Funnily enough, my darling hubby has the exact same leg length, which is very handy when driving each other's cars. I'm sure when I was viewing him as a prospective marriage partner, I was thinking how handy this would be, without realising it. (Keep it clean please people, I'm talking driving here!!). Anyway, after work has been done at the garage, the seat in my car is always so far forward and so raised my nose is almost touching the windscreen. Do they employ child labourers in there? It always takes a good few weeks of moving the seat one notch forward, two notches back, and adjusting the seat back & lumbar support before it feels comfy again. Once, they moved the steering wheel, and I almost self combusted on the spot. Can they not get the person with the best height match to test drive the car??? Sheesh.

I'm sure they also have their lunch in there. Being a 7 seater, maybe they can have a little short-person's tea party in there. The steering wheel and gearstick are still bloody sticky, I'm sure the snack of the day must have been sugared donuts.

Yuk.