“Your brakes are touchy.” Keller told me as he drove us to the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. Comments like this are red flags. “While you’re gone, I’m driving your car to the dealership to get your brakes fixed.” I told him.
As soon as he flew off into the wild blue yonder, I drove home and switched my Toyota Prius for his Toyota Prius and took it to the Toyota dealership for brake repairs. His level headedness has flown out the window. Three safety warning lights were glowing on the dashboard with an airbag recall, the front windshield was cracked and all four tire treads were questionable. Since he was told to find a reliable mechanic to fix these issues, was I overstepping my boundaries?
He’s a college aged adult, and it’s the wrong price, but it’s the right thing to do.
§tacyReneè§weeney 