My day began in El Centro. It was hot; it was probably 90 degrees. The top on the rented Ford Mustang was down, and I was cruising through the desert. I scaled the mighty In-Ko-Pah Mountains.
I was approaching the summit, between Jacumba and Boulevard. The temperature gauge was rising fast. I turned the heater to max. The overheat light came up; I stopped at the next call box.
Hertz has a roadside assistance program. Luckily I had cell coverage, and I called. There were problems because she couldn't figure out where I was just based on the interstate mile marker. She kept asking me to locate myself; she didn't like the middle of nowhere reply.
Hertz would dispatch a car from San Diego, and it would be there in 2 to 3 hours. This did not please me. In 3 hours, it was going to 110 in the shade and I had no water.
I called AAA. They arrived within 30 minutes, and towed me to the Hertz place at the airport.
They gave me a significant discount, but I'm not too pleased with them. And this serves as yet another reminder (and I didn't need another) that Fords are not the car for me.
Huh -- I thought the Hertz Donut was a creation of the Lahey family. Guess not.
ReplyDeleteFor those of you who missed some of the more sadistic elements of childhood, it goes a little something like this:
ReplyDelete"Want a hertz donut?"
"Mmm.. donut! Sure!"
[wham]
"Hurts, don't it?"
is a ford really the car for anyone, anymore?
ReplyDelete