Junkyard daddy I'm not

Almost a year ago the visor over the passenger side of my van broke.  The van had been sitting outside for a couple of months in the Florida sun, and when that happens it isn't always good for the vehicle.  The piece that broke was a small plastic piece that is connected to the visor and is not sold separately.  When I went to replace it at the dealership the price was over $225.  I looked at the guy holding the new visor and told him he had to be kidding.  He suggested a junkyard.  I left without the piece, and not being a junkyard know-it-all, I discussed the situation with my two male neighbors one day while sitting outside with them.  They offered to take me to the junkyard, but nothing ever came of it.

My husband threw the visor in the back of my car, but after a few months of it rattling around, I rigged it back up in my car and tried to remember to tell passengers not to touch the visor.  Yesterday, I was the passenger while Tom the driver, and forgetting that the visor was broken, I pulled it down to block out the sun that was shining directly in my eyes.  It just so happened that we were heading to get my van's oil changed, and Tom suggested we continue on afterwards to the junkyard.

The oil change turned into more as we flushed and replaced the transmission fluid and signed up for some car repair for the following week.  One of the repairs that was noticed was a leak in the plastic container that holds the radiator fluid, which was discovered when they filled it and green liquid began dripping at a rapid rate all over the garage floor.  The repair guy suggested getting the container at the junkyard.  Hey, buddy, just so happens...

The junkyard that the repair guy suggested was just down the street at a used auto parts warehouse, the junkyard being behind the auto parts building.  I've driven past this building for years as it is hard to miss with the huge Paul Bunyan type guy on the roof.  Inside were two huge counters, one in front of the door, the other to the right.  Behind each counter on stools sat two workers behind giant computer monitors, the counter littered with greasy, dirty auto parts and wires.  We were asked about our parts and Tom gave them the two that we needed.  The woman behind the counter tapped tapped on her computer, yelled some junkyard lingo to a guy at the opposite counter, told us to have a seat and that someone would check out back as those pieces were not part of the inventory.

Apparently, wandering the junkyard searching through crushed cars, which is what I envisioned doing with my neighbors, is taboo at this place.  They have people for that.  I was disappointed as I haven't had anything exciting to blog about in awhile, but crawling around in auto parts and avoiding the junkyard dog wasn't going to happen for me or my blog.  Instead we sat on dirty stained chairs across from the counter and watched the two counter employees tap, answer phones, talk junkyard lingo back and forth with the other counter employees, and tap some more.  People came in and people went out the door.  Eventually an employee appeared and went outside to check out the pieces we were replacing in the van.

He and Tom got under the hood and talked car talk.  He looked at the visor, commented on how we couldn't just replace the plastic piece, and satisfied that we knew what we were looking for, disappeared behind the building.  It took him about ten minutes to roam the junkyard and return with two replacements. Both were dirty parts that looked as if they had been sitting in a junkyard forever, the visor the wrong color and without the lighted mirror my other visor sports. Total price for the parts? $60.  Much higher than I expected for junkyarding, but hubby seemed content with the price and shelled it out via the debit card.

My plan is to get some Pittsburgh Steelers material and wrap it around my wrong colored new visor so that the gray color won't be so trashy clashing with the other visor.  As for the radiator container... It fits under the hood so I don't have to worry about hiding its imperfections.