I miss BJs and the nice men there who changed my oil in my car. I dropped my car off, walked over to Red Robin for a burger, and came back to a car ready and waiting.
Welcome to a new city where the many unknowns include not knowing which mechanic to trust to change your oil and do it right without trying to rip you off. So yesterday John gave me a crash course. I was supposed to ask to see the old filter (which he drew a blue sharpie X on so I would know it was the one), check my oil levels, see how many quarts the guy put in, see if my air filter had been replaced, etc. and then pay for the work.
Have you ever heard Brian Regan’s joke about taking the car to the mechanic? If you have, that’s me. If you haven’t, look it up.
I’m spoiled. I’ve lived near my dad all my life and never really had to figure out the car thing.
So, armed with my limited car knowledge, my limited Spanish, my even more limited car Spanish knowledge, I set off today to get an oil change. I had been practicing my speech in my head all morning… “I’m new her, I’m trying to find someone I can trust, can you show me all this car stuff I don’t understand when you’re done doing whatever you’re going to do, and p.s. I have a friend who will know if you didn’t do it right even if you totally hoodwink me…” Well, that was roughly the speech.
So, I would like to report that I think it went well. I played the pathetic gringo girl card and I don’t think he was even offended that I didn’t trust him. Then he took me outside to the car and told me all the things he’d done… I saw the things John told me to look for and then honestly stopped listening. But it was a job well done.
Needless to say, in an effort to not have to repeat this terribly humbling experience, I will be returning to my new best friends at the trustworthy mechanic next time I have car trouble. At least they already know that I’m clueless and asking to see things I don’t understand so they won’t think I’m such an idiot :) One can always hope…
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