Clarification: 2003 Jeep Laredo six cylinder. Family car from 2008-2014. Haven't messed with it too much. Financing ended 2014 in my wife's name.
Came out of (side) work midnight, last Saturday night. Sunday morning. Cold, wet wearing one pair of dry socks. Not warm enough. Jeep would not start. The key gave a high pitched noise. No ignition. Called GEICO. Truck transferred to Firestone near house. Good conversation with tow truck driver from Nashville; he gave me a ride home afterwards.
Next morning Firestone was open, dealerships closed. Firestone would not work on car; wanted me to tow truck to dealership. Truck sat. Spent the rest of the day looking at YouTube. Interesting videos on purple wires, magic keys and crank sensors. Next morning I walked to Firestone, undid two screws underneath the steering wheel, yanked on a black cord which looked like something UPC you would thumb screw into your laptop until the high pitched squeal, 'Shut up!' The truck turned on. I drove off the property asking for the service manager as I left. I kept my middle fingers to myself.
They would not let me speak with the service manager, but I reiterated: bought truck in Stone Mountain (2008), moved to Duluth (2009), all truck work history was at Firestone (Duluth) not the dealership (Stone Mountain). I did not need their mechanics pleading the fifth. I drove home and finished yanking on wires, until I found a black box marked Made in Taiwan. I drove back to my side job.
Wife called. I was irritated. Must be getting older. I reminded her, this was not the first time but the third: 2002 Saturn sedan; a gallon of iced tea slash Coca Cola spilled into the center console shorted out the electric windows. The dealership would not look at it. I jiggled some parts around; dried up some sticky, brown liquids. Windows worked again. The nice, Saturn attendant gave me some attaboys, because her father used to do the same thing when she was a girl. Saturn went out of business soon afterward.
The first car was a 1994 four cylinder Mustang with eight spark plugs. It was a coupe with two electric windows. Coupe seems redundant. One window did not work, suddenly. The local Ford dealership would not help. I bent on one knee and saw a shiny fuse, Cock eyed to one side. I pushed it back in, the window worked. We drove away. This was before my first daughter was born. Channeling Isaiah Thomas: Pick me last again. The only vibrant businesses left in that part of Gwinnett Place are the car dealerships, and it seems like they open and close every day.