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08 October, 2009

Not a car guy

One of the things I really dislike doing is going to the auto repair place, or the "garage" as I would say. It's not like using any other service where you are greeted by a polite young server working for tips and smiling broadly, who is listening to your every word and seems pleased to be at your assistance.

No, it's not like that at all.

It's more like entering a private club where I feel everyone knows something that I don't and they aren't willing to share it. Strangers (i.e.customers) are treated with suspicion, and any problem they have (such as their car isn't working in some manner) is often viewed as incredulous, as if a problem like that could possibly go wrong and only a dullard would know not how to fix it themselves.

All of this is conveyed in a manly "Can I help you today?".

My latest visit was probably one of the most uncomfortable in recent memory. Mostly due to the fact that I pointed out a problem on my car that didn't exist.

Two front lights on my car weren't blinking. "How strange!", I thought to myself, "these aren't working and I thought they did and had been working before. Maybe the last time the garage tinkered around my engine they disconnected them by accident."

So, I walked on in. Explained about the lights not working. 5 minutes later a very friendly and helpful mechanic pops his head out to tell me that he's looked at the car and the problem is...they aren't supposed to blink and never have done.

"Oh," I say " Yes, I knew that. Just testing you!".

Ok, I didn't really say that. Luckily, the car needed an oil change so it wasn't a wasted trip. Just another dent in my confidence at auto repair shops and proof that I'm just not a car guy.

Please sure your embarrassing car repair shop stories. It might make me feel better.

1 comment:

Neurotic Atty said...

Sorry, I can't top that one! And, no, I'm not laughing AT you; I'm laughing WITH you. If it helps, though, whenever I need work done on my car, my dad is always "with" me...on the phone. I repeat everything the mechanic says to me to my dad, and then I tell the mechanic what my dad says in reply. I guess I could just have the mechanic talk directly to my dad, but I feel like I need to participate in SOME way to preserve my dignity.