But. That's not how writing works. First drafts are all kinds of wrong. First drafts are all the wrong stuff in the right place or all the right stuff in the wrong place and sometimes they're just the wrong stuff over and over and over again until you can get all that wrong out of the way and find the shiny right stuff buried at the bottom. Kind of like that scene in Labyrinth where the junk lady is handing Sarah all of her old stuff and Sarah finally has that Aha! moment and remembers all that stuff isn't want she wants anymore.
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I've had bad experiences with Walmart changing my oil in the past, but this last week was crazy and I only had so much time to both do the grocery shopping and get the oil changed before driving the 60 miles to see my parents. So, I put my prejudices aside and went to Walmart. I drop off the car, do my shopping with three kids in tow, and come back to pick up my car. At which point, the Walmart employee informs me that one of the 'associates' broke the dipstick off in the "oil thing" (no--he didn't even know it was called an oil pan) and they couldn't get it out.
I would have to take it to a mechanic, he said. They'll reimburse me he said. No, there isn't anything in writing about that reimbursement thing, he said.
Well you can bet my arse I wasn't leaving until there was something in writing. So the shaking twelve-year-old employee wrote a note on my receipt, and then I drove it up to my parents house the next day (since it was already after 6pm), got a mechanic to get the old piece of dipstick out, and had him change the oil.
Walmart will not ever get my business for oil changes again. I wish I could say they would never get my business again, period, but in a town that only has Walmart and a grocery store, that just can't happen right now.
So I've got another moral for you tonight: Don't be afraid to be wrong. Sometimes it works out for the best.
(Thanks for the insight Chuck.)