Unfiltered Story #211811

| Unfiltered | October 18, 2020

In 1991 I worked at a local dealer for the summer. A brand new Chevy G20 = full-size van came chugging and bucking and puffing grey smoke onto the par= king lot, pulling up in front of an open bay door. An older fellow and his = maybe early 20’s son got out, and the fellow was absolutely livid that= his brand new van, which our dealer had sold him a couple days before, was= acting this way. My Service manager and I went out to the van, quite conc= erned. He did a number of checks, starting it, checking for codes, etc. T= he last thing he did was open the gas cap, and take a sniff. I can still s= ee him straighten back up, turn to the fellow, and ask “Who filled it = up last?” It was the son. This was a gasoline 305 engine, and the son= had filled it with diesel. (We were all astonished that the van had been = able to drive the several miles to the dealer, or even move a few feet for = that matter). The father’s blood pressure soared, the son turned beet= red and got a major tongue-lashing right there in front of us. Anyway, lo= ng story short, we drained the tank and the fuel lines, filled the tank wit= h fresh gas, and hoped for the best. At the customer’s expense of cour= se. To our surprise, the engine started and after a bit of rough idling it= smoothed out. The fellow had the van years later, no work needed on the e= ngine. But back to the scene. When the van was ready to go, and I still s= ee this in my mind’s eye, the father pulled the son to the van by the = ear, not a word was said to him, and they drove off silently.

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