If hearts mean nothing then yes...

So, once again Murdock Chevrolet has let me down. Don't get me wrong, the people there are so nice and the service man, Jed, that I take my car to is a very good man. However, their motto needs to be changed. It is currently "Murdock, where U-R the heart of our business." If by that they mean, where we take you in, break you down, remove parts, and return you in less of a condition than when we got your heart in then yes it is a good one, but I get the feeling that isn't what they mean. So I took my car up to finally have the speedometer repaired and my dash plate that they destroyed replaced. Well turns out that they ordered the wrong part for my dash... ok no big deal just yet another trip up to Bountiful that will cost me 100 dollars in gas and my left arm. I might as well cover my next paycheck in chocolate, set it on fire and swallow it whole. So I get in my car and on my passenger seat lies a dash plate with lots of cords hanging off which meant only one thing, my dash had a hole in it with atleast 5 hazardous wires coming out at me like cobras tempting me to touch them saying "Come on Amanda, I will give you that crimpy hair you have been wanting since you saw Cindy Lauper." I politely declined and got out of the car to show Jed that they hadn't placed it back in temporarily... Keep in mind this also controls my dash info center so I now have to calculate how many more miles I have left to drive on my gas tank by etching each mile into a stone tablet. He messes with it for a good 45 seconds and comes away unsuccesful then says, here no big deal, just throw it in your glove box. WHAT!? I have to deal with those cords staring at me and begging to be messed with? I always push my dash info buttons, what happens when I unconciously electrocute myself and end up crashing my car? So when I wake up in the hospital and learn what happened, I will slowly reach up, touch my crimpy hair and ask for a scruncci.