Dear parts stores and salvage yards in northern Missouri:
Open. Your. Fucking. Ears.
When I call your store/location/yard/whatthefuckever, I'm calling for a reason. Not just to chitchat and say hi, how's your mom? No. I'm calling because something is wrong with my car, I'm broke, and I need to find a part for cheap that will last me at least until I can get a few more paychecks and buy a brand new replacement part. Simple and easy to understand, right?
In the past month, I have gone through *three* starters in my Civic. The first one was an improper fit, because the store I called did not, as I stated above, open their god damned ears.
When I say, "I need a starter for a 98 Honda Civic DX, 2 door, manual transmission," that does not mean "A 97 or a 99 starter would be close enough, they might work," NOR does that mean "The starter out of a 98 Civic with an automatic transmission should do the trick."
No. They are not the right size, they will not fit in my car.
Now, the first time this mistake happened, I was willing to overlook it. Mistakes do happen from time to time, and I'm usually not one to flip my shit at the first 'oops' incident.
But when it's happening several times, repeatedly, and costing me a lot of money, now I'm starting to lose my fucking cool.
The amount I have spend on starters for my car this month, because a parts department can't seem to get employees that at least know how to comprehend the difference between 'automatic' and 'manual' transmission, would be enough to buy a brand NEW starter, from a respectable store like AutoZone or O'Reilly's (If you use somebody else or have personal beefs with either of these places, keep it to yourselves, I really don't give a flying fuck right now), and I'd be done with all the problems.
But no. My car is still parked on the curb in front of my house, collecting a lovely coat of pollen and bird shit, and I'm reduced to walking (which, believe me, is just FUCKING DELIGHTFUL) or hitching a ride and inconveniencing other people, which I positively despise.
So yeah. Next time I call your store, at least have the common courtesy to pull your heads out of your collective asses and pay the fuck attention to what a PAYING CUSTOMER is asking for.
The pissed off pregnant lady