It's inspection time again, this time for Eleanor's truck, and you know what THAT means:

Check engine

This time, though, we thought we'd gotten away with our evil polluting ways. Last month, you see, the Found On Road Dead Motor Company sent us a notice on her truck as well as our oldest car to say, in essence: oops. That even though their required warranties on the emissions systems for each were only five years and 60,000 mileswhichevercomesfirst, both owners' manuals contained language implying that they were offering the longer California emissions coverage to even lowly out-of-staters like us, for 8 years and 80k. So they'd continue to cover these vehicles even though both are well beyond five years.

The oldest car passed 80K sometime during the first year of the Bush presidency, or so it seems, so that one's not covered anymore, but the 2001 truck still only has about 40,000 on her, so yay! The check-engine light would be fixed for free!

Or not.

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It turns out to be nothing more than another gaming table at this oversaturated casino corner of New York. This dealer (ETA: Ha! They even call them the same thing as they do the guys at poker tables!) charges you 90 bucks to tell you what code(s) you've popped, applicable against the cost of the repairs themselves. If the repairs were to parts still under this awesome-dude California warranty, that diagnostic charge would also be covered. If not, not.

Gentlemen, place your bets.

Have I mentioned I suck at gambling? The only lottery I would ever draw a "winning" number in would be a draft lottery. Aces shun my hand in favor of mismatched twos and fours. Dice? As George Carlin would say if he wasn't currently dead, "aw shit, I crapped."

Sure enough, the codes related to several components just outside the axis of coverage. And no, the truck would not pass inspection without them being repaired. The quote came. The quote was bad, but barely affordable. I authorized it.

Then came the next shoe. I was familiar with it, but not quite in this way before. The truck would still not pass the state emissions test, even after sinking the dinero therein, because the state computers require a certain amount of mileage on the computer after a reset, to prevent devious owners from clearing the codes simply by disconnecting the battery. But they, out of the goodness of their little corporate hearts, would drive the truck around themselves, and ensure the resetting of the monitors, for a mere additional $50 (plus tax) charge!

Regular readers of my adventures with the green Fuckus know that I am an old pro at resetting the monitors, using the state-approved protocol for same, also contained in its entirety as Chapter 14 of How to Look Like a Complete and Utter Dork (New York: J. Buchanan High Press, 1976, A. Horshack, ed.).  So I told them to pound road salt, and that I'd do the rest of the inspection deal sometime (and likely someplace) else, tyvm.

Instead of 50, it'll cost me 11 for the re-inspection of the emissions system after clearing the codes. With the 39 dollars of my net savings? Lotto tickets, what else?