So, I just got back from the Mercedes repair shop that apparently doubles as a high-end magic show—apparently, every sound my car makes is a clue to some ancient automotive mystery. Has anyone else experienced the joy of handing over a perfectly good Benz and watching the repair bill grow faster than my car’s rumored horsepower? I swear, they seemed more excited about the “diagnostic drama” than my car ever did about a quiet drive. Tips on dealing with this theatrical masterpiece of car repair would be much appreciated—or at least some war stories to keep me company while I wait for my car to reappear from the realm of mystical fixes.