Rolling. Or not, actually.
My truck decided that today would be a good day to die (at one point during a left turn across two lanes of traffic, which was an adrenaline rush). The engine light's been on and off for a while now, though the truck's been running fine. Circumstances conspired to derail my responsible plans to get it into the mechanic last month, but apparently, it decided to make sure I'd not bail on my plan to take it in this week.
Then it turns out my mechanic is on vacation. Now, I love my mechanic with all the deep platonic love of a very successful and trusting consumer/service provider relationship. Other than the fact that he's like a hilariously jovial hippie surfer in demeanor and a damn good and honest mechanic who has gone out of his way not to screw me on repairs, he's also never given me the sort of condescending sexist shit I've gotten from other auto guys. He trusts that I know my vehicle, know the basics of its maintenance, and he listens when I discuss problems. With him I'm a person with car problems, not a woman with car problems, and realizing that was one of the most refreshing experiences in my tenure as car owner. I've never gone anywhere else for any repair he can do since riffalike recommended him a couple of years ago.
But today I found myself staring at the phone as his message played, saying the shop wouldn't be open until January 3rd. I contemplated waiting until I realized how insane the first two weeks of the term would be, and arranging to be late so I could drop off the truck would be impossible until about the 10th. So with the help of the internets, I located a place that could get my truck in today.
It's scary, finding a new mechanic after so long. Like going on a first date after a long relationship. You're not sure what to expect. You keep comparing the new one to the old. That first meeting is a little awkward, a little uncomfortable. Afterward, you're not sure if you should call, or wait for them to call. You stare at the phone, wondering what the next step will be. Will there be a second meeting, a third? Will it all end badly, with hurt feelings and hurt wallets?
It's enough to make you wish you were a pedestrian.
Then it turns out my mechanic is on vacation. Now, I love my mechanic with all the deep platonic love of a very successful and trusting consumer/service provider relationship. Other than the fact that he's like a hilariously jovial hippie surfer in demeanor and a damn good and honest mechanic who has gone out of his way not to screw me on repairs, he's also never given me the sort of condescending sexist shit I've gotten from other auto guys. He trusts that I know my vehicle, know the basics of its maintenance, and he listens when I discuss problems. With him I'm a person with car problems, not a woman with car problems, and realizing that was one of the most refreshing experiences in my tenure as car owner. I've never gone anywhere else for any repair he can do since riffalike recommended him a couple of years ago.
But today I found myself staring at the phone as his message played, saying the shop wouldn't be open until January 3rd. I contemplated waiting until I realized how insane the first two weeks of the term would be, and arranging to be late so I could drop off the truck would be impossible until about the 10th. So with the help of the internets, I located a place that could get my truck in today.
It's scary, finding a new mechanic after so long. Like going on a first date after a long relationship. You're not sure what to expect. You keep comparing the new one to the old. That first meeting is a little awkward, a little uncomfortable. Afterward, you're not sure if you should call, or wait for them to call. You stare at the phone, wondering what the next step will be. Will there be a second meeting, a third? Will it all end badly, with hurt feelings and hurt wallets?
It's enough to make you wish you were a pedestrian.