I’m of two minds when it comes to men treating me like a woman.
I don’t like to be whistled at, but I do like to be noticed.
I don’t like to be talked down to, but I do like to have things explained.
And though I am happy to stay far away from the world of cars and car repairs, I hate the feeling I get each time my oil needs changed or the engine serviced. I don’t want to be taken advantage of, but I do want to feel like I am making the right decision.
Enter Pat’s Auto Repair.
My car has been making a funny noise the past few months, and I kind of remember it making the same noise last summer. I didn’t get it checked out then. I thought I should now. Especially since I have plans for a road trip to Wisconsin soon.
I walked into Pat’s Auto Repair where I have taken my car before and began to explain the problem.
“When I turn and go over a bump at the same time, or sometimes just when I turn, but usually just when I go over a bump, my car makes this noise,” I tell the man in charge, though I’ve heard it’s not Pat.
“It sounds like, errttt, errrtt, errtttt,” I say, waving my hand up and down so he knows that the sound I’m making is supposed to sound like a creaky spring. “Could it be the suspension?”
I thought I sounded very smart offering that suggestion, though really it was my dad’s idea.
“Yeah, it sounds like the blah, blah, blah,” he told me, only with real words that sounded something like “struts” and “arms” and “joints.” I tried to pay attention and understand exactly what he was saying. But I had no context, and I didn’t write it down.
“How much does that usually cost,” I asked, getting to the bottom line.
“Thirty-four hundred,” I thought I heard him say.
“$3,400?” I repeated, imagining the new car I would buy instead. “Really?”
“No, three OR four hundred,” he clarified.
But then I saw it. A slight hesitation.
“It is dangerous to drive the car if I don’t get it fixed,” I asked, hoping to burst through the little window I saw in his expression.
He shook his head.
“Not at all. If you were driving a Ford, the problem might leave you stranded. But this happens all the time with Vue’s. It’s probably the blah, blah, blah (I kind of blacked out again), and that won’t cause any damage at all.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I asked him again what the problem was so that I could report back to my dad. Mentioned that the problem seemed better in the winter, and he said that sounded about right because of the humidity or something.
“Alright then,” I said, smiling. “I think I’ll just let it go for now.”
“That sounds good,” not-Pat told me.
And I left. Dignity in tact.
Photo by maureen lunn via flickr. Used with permission under the Creative Commons License.
My dad made me change the tires n hs car before he taught me how to drive. Now I belong to AAA. Even when my husband takes the time to explain something car, engine, or mechanically-related to me, it’s as though he’s speaking a different language. The words just won’t stick in my brain. Nice piece.
Oh, this is funny. I, a man, have very little mechanical ability (this is why I gravitate towards reading and art and writing and strategy?) so I also hear the “blah blah blah” when I am with mechanics. LUCKY for me I have a group of mechanics at my company who keep my car honest. And with my wife’s car, well, we just bring her in to the dealer and deal with it. It usually costs $3,400.
I had to smile at your post!! and your title too!
We drove for over a year with a light showing that said “check engine soon.” My son-in-law said to unplug the battery and replug it. Or make sure the gas cap was tightly closed.
Last time we got the oil changed, the light stopped showing. Never knew why and apparently in this case it does not matter.
Thanks, LL. I would say my wit-level is higher in my writing, where I have time to think about it, then in my face to face encounters. Though even in my writing it’s not on par with most.
I like struts too. I don’t know what they do, but they sound feisty!
Ann — I thought about taking that approach at some point in the past. Plus, I was very frugal. So I decided to change my own oil. But as it turns out, it was more expensive to do it myself.
I don’t want to have to know about cars in order to not get taken advantage of, either. Men who are car illiterate seem to have a different experience than women.
What do you mean you don’t have wit? I thought this was very amusing 🙂
Struts. I like that word 🙂
My neighbor chose to educate herself on all the inner workings of an automobile engine to avoid being duped. She can do most maintenance herself as well as diagnose and fix minor problems.
That’s another approach.
Makes me tired, though. Seems like that’s why we should hire professionals, so we don’t have to pull out automotive repair manuals and learn those inner workings.
Megan – That’s hysterical! Though I feel the same way. I will forever invoke “my dad” when I feel they are trying to give me the run around. Though I’m sure I’m not fooling anyone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tricked into buying the new air filters during the oil changes!
The thought of having to go to a mechanic by myself will keep me happily married forever.