Y’all don’t impress me with your fancy car words.
Remember the time that car dude rejected me and gave me a sticker so the whole world knew?
So, I came back to that place this morning. Because I haven’t gotten my oil changed in about 15,000 miles. And apparently you have to rotate tires every so often. Beyond the rotating they do while you drive. Which seems pretty high maintenance. And my front tires are dangerously low on air. Because I don’t know how to put air in them myself.
Stop it. My co-workers have already judged me for this.
But exploding tires happen.
And apparently you can also totally deflate them in this process?
I can’t take those kinds of risks.
So, when I walked in, I sat on the only available space. A bench seat where a dude was already sitting. And I thought things were cool. I didn’t try to grope him or anything. I didn’t even speak to him in any way. But as soon as another seat opened up, dude practically dove for it.
I mean, I recognize that I could put a little more effort into my appearance on a Saturday morning.
But it’s Saturday morning.
And I haven’t even run yet.
How hideous could I be?
Dudes scare too easy.
It’s cool. Because now this is a challenge. I will force you to speak to me.
“Is that spot more comfortable?”
“I mean, you could’ve sat in one of these chairs…”
That are positioned to face the rest of the room. And look like a solid challenge to get up out of.
When you had a pretty intense leg day this week.
And so that’s how I got here. In one if these chairs. That I can’t gracefully get up out of.
Because in trying to shame the skittish seat jumper, I somehow ended up challenging the whole room to try to sit in the chair…
And I’m the only one who would take the dare.
I think that whole scenario is a pretty accurate description of who I am. In case you haven’t been keeping up.
So when oil change dude came in to say words at me like maintenance schedule and tire inflation and PSI and whatever dude. Don’t come at me with your fancy car words. Just help me up out of this chair and give me my keys. I’m hungry. And apparently need a shower.
Rolled my happy little car on out of the rejection shop and on over to the store. Because food helps me not engage with people.
Until I see a former student stranded in the parking lot. With her car hood up.
“Is it turning over when you try to start it?”
She tried to start it. It kinda turned over. Kinda didn’t. But it definitely didn’t start.
Ok, so I’ve exhausted my car knowledge here.
Do you have anyone to call?
Where are all of the men that love to feel helpful when they see two chicks standing in front of a car with the hood up?
Isn’t that usually like some sort of bat signal or something? Don’t they just magically start swarming you when that happens?
Or is that signal only operational for long-legged chicks in stilettos? Who have showered…
We just stood there staring at one another for a few minutes. She was clearly under the impression that I was in control now and would fix the situation.
I just wanted some damn food.
So I did what I do. And found some poor dude walking a few aisles over. And accosted him. And started saying awkward words at him. Until he begrudgingly came over to the car.
And then some sort of switch flipped in his brain.
And he started giving a full on lesson in car care maintenance and saying words like corrosion and dielectric grease and pointing to things and demonstrating how to check oil and…
“Cool. So do you have jumper cables?”
This is why I spend my weekends on a mountain…