I'm a dreadful sight, I just don't care, spend all morning pulling out my hair

Fun fact: when a person-let's call that person me-hasn't been on a bike in 3 years the time to find out if the adage about not forgetting is not at dusk and the distance recommended is under 3 miles and the location is not the rolling hills of Nashville, TN.
My plans for this Tuesday didn't include going for a bike ride-there's a story. Everything I do has a story.
Yesterday I was on my way up to school when the brake light came on. That's not good-so I bought some brake fluid and went on. The light stayed on the whole way home and, I'll tell you what-having cheated death back on '03 on the MASS Pike I didn't really feel like I had the luck of the Irish on my side a second time. Dad said it could be nothing, maybe some air in the brake line or a glitch in the computer. When driving the truck would come to a stop so I didn't think I was in dire straits. I am reminded of the famous last words of so many rednecks-hey y'all watch this. Hey y'all watch me drive thru the moutains in my big ole truck on these iffy brakes!! And again, that night on the MassPike came floating back on my ride home last night-the smell of the water coming thru the windows of my sister's truck as I'd coasted thru Boston to the club-the pints and hail fellow well met cheers and best wishes all night the throb and wail of the bands, the sobbing onto Larry's shoulder at the end of the evening when I realized trucks don't fix themselves and I would surely die before the sun rose the next day, passing out at a rest area somewhere on the way back to CT and sneaking into my sister's apt at 6am like a guilty teenager praying no one would hear me. Truly one of the greatest nights of my life...Lord! That's one of the tales.
That was my one driving a truck without brakes without retribution opportunity-but today I was pretty certain that it wasn't air in the brakes-my online research indicated that it wasn't something to fuck with-brake issues. I took the car up to Budget Brakes-because they had the word BUDGET in the name and, well, I'm not the smartest person or the best informed at all really, so I thought that meant that the cost of repairs would be within reach my budget not approximately my personal responsibility for balancing the FEDERAL budget. For someone with 12 years of higher education under her belt and close to 5 years of independent living I am naive about cars. Daddy or Uncle L always fixed them and I guess by their names alone you can tell these aren't people that would be interested in screwing me over. I've never had a car repair that cost more than $350 and that was for a near complete replacement of a front end tires included on Rosie just last month. Daddy rebuilt my old wagon for under $300. These sorts of repair bills give the impression that it is very inexpensive to fix a car/truck, especially since I have more than once purchased the materials needed to do repair jobs and I know what parts cost. The turnip truck is still in the neighborhood but I ain't been on it in the last 24 hours.
Budget Brakes is right next to the Vet that told me that Baxter's only problem was that he was old and gave me no cause to think he would be gone from me in less than a month from the visit. I shoulda fuckin' thought that maybe that strip is bad for me but I went anyway. The greasy fingered guy (this seemed like a good sign-he works on cars, he shouldn't have finely manicured hands) took the keys and twenty minutes later came back in "Ready for the bad news?"
He took me out to the bay and showed me the worn to near non-existence brakes/cylinders. "You can't even drive home on that. It's a wonder you got here." I've heard this before-take the car in for an oil change and the helpful Mr. Mechanicman is explaining how the hydrotator flusk valve is bent and the truck will spontaneously combust at the first encounter of a yellow light. The price I was quoted for
-2 rear brake shoes
-2 wheel cylinders
-2 drums
-Labor
----------------------
$565

You read that right. The price for the car to be "safe to drive home" was $256. For ONE side-not for both brakes.
I called Daddy and we got into a screaming match-he even talked to the guy at the shop who explained the dire situation and Dad said there wasn't any choice for me than to get the work done whatever the cost. I screamed more and suffered a small but notable psychotic break unlike anything I had undergone in quite a lengthy period of time. I'd say years. I don't take kindly to being fucked with-and no one was going to argue-not even Mum who doesn't allow communication when I get worked up because she figures if I have someone to talk to my emotions will only grow more heated and extreme. I don't entirely disagree but I still don't know if hanging up (even accidentally) on an irrational screaming person is the right method of action. Whatever works-whatever works. I'm not saying anything negative about it-my irrational anger turned into near dissociative reason and I walked into that joint and said with all due bluntness "Take the truck down and give me my keys." Counter dude shrugged the "It's your funeral you stupid woman" shrug mechanics save for righteously indignant women.
My parents called back when I was waiting for them to pull the truck out so I could go home. Counter guy came out when I was talking to them, "Sign this and you can have your truck."
"I will not sign anything for you."
"Then you can't have yr keys."
"Sign the paper and get the hell outta there, Kenz," Ma said.
I scribbled on the paper and took my keys, "Yr a shyster."
"No I'm not."
Ma rebuked me for "calling names" by referring to me by my full given name-a rare event in my life.
"Mama, I ain't lying."
"And yr also driving a truck without brakes, don't make it worse by insulting people."
"I'll tell you what-if it costs me anywhere near what he quoted me I will personally write an apology note to him, hell, I'll deliver it with flowers."
When I got home Dad called--how did people survive before cell phone "IN" minutes? We set up a plan-I'd call some local Mom and Pop shops and he'd find out a reasonable price for parts and I should expect at least $60/hr for labor. Fine, effing fine.
"And you shouldn't have called that guy names kid."
"Da, a man that talks to a woman like she's stupid simply because she's a woman deserves names thrown at him."
"And in a just world stuff like that would never happen. But this world isn't big on justice."
"I'm sorry I got so pissed. It's just that I was going to be ahead, well, even, for the first time this month-I was going to be able to make a car payment, my dryer's almost paid off, I thought I was going to catch up."
"That's not how it works."
"Don't I know..."
"Hey, you should call that guy you took yr wagon to awhile back...call him."
So, I called him. And here I get a little madder at me cuz all of this could've been avoided if I'd just thought about it and hadn't tried to "save." There's a guy over on Main St-Shaw recommended him before I even moved down here-said he'd been going there for years---hey, y'know, I'm fond of the guy but does he know from mechanics? Turns out-yeh, he does. Listen to people-esp people you consider friends when they tell you shit like "Here's a good mechanic, he won't rip you off." Why would a buddy lie about that? What would be the gain? For all my fight about being treated like a stupid girl, I feel a bit like I acted like one by not listening to what was a good piece of information. Me=Dumbass.
Dude on Main St's written quote is for $225 for parts and labor for both brakes---lower than the est he gave me over the phone. Oh-it's not cheap-and he has a Bush/Cheney yard sign on the wall of the garage-but I am willing to overlook his CCRWRSWAM-ness to save $200+, besides he's honest, he's local, he comes recommended and he was pretty funny when I pulled my bike out of the truck (see---the bike thing wasn't just a non-sequitor) there's was much laughter about how I musta been a Girl Scout-since I came prepared and with a Miller High Life bike at that---for when yr just too drunk to drive a car-it's Miller Bike. (I've heard every joke ever conceived about that bike-I've had it for 5 years. It was WAY easier to ride around in the flatlands of Bowling Green, OH. Never go biking drunk-just trust me on this-not even in Bowling Green, OH.)
Tomorrow my tune may change a bit-there might be more work that will need done on my truck that I can't afford the payments on, that has had over $500 in repairs since Christmas, that has the insurance due in 2 months but it'll be drivable and hell-it couldn't need more than another two or three thousand dollars worth of repairs before Lent.