It was a typical Saturday morning. I sat worshiping my breakfast; a delicious book and a pumpkin cream smoothie milkshake thing so wonderful that the whipped cream piled atop this mountain of exquisiteness had consumed my face in a Santa disguise. I sat surrounded by this years newest trends, Rain X Weatherbeater 16″ blades, H Speed Rating Michelin Primacy MXV4 and Continental PureContact tires, and other customers anticipating the end of their car shop torment. There was a tv playing Maury, people still have sex and are not sure who the father is. Fathers still deny the conception. Coffee brews in the corner, old coffee, but coffee none the less. The smell of new rubber and grease compliment the atmosphere of fear of newly discovered car issues and labor fees. My car simply needed and oil change and a tire rotation but left with one new tire, a pristine air filter, a new brake light, an alignment, and deep regret that I had not learned how to fix cars my damn self. But the belittling attendant, the exponential pricing, and uncomfortable seating were all worth the wait for as I was sucking the last of my whipcreamed heaven out of my wawa cup a man walked in with a VW exhaust that needed welding and his response to the outcome of the welded piece left me contemplative and ponderous.
Mechanic: ” Welded it the best it can be done. Not too pretty though.”
Man with car thing: ” I care about the functionality not the looks.”
BOOM! There it was. The male psyche in one sentence. Oh how my world was rocked by you Monroe Muffler Man. If this is how men feel about cars, why is it soo difficult to understand such about women? That what we look like does not define ourselves. It is how we function, our minds, our inner workings of our being. Perhaps he was the ideal man, but then again, he was driving a VW….and we all know that scandal.