Car Shame

I’ve just come back from putting the trusty ole mini-van in the shop for brakes and alignment and my cheeks are burning.

I’m so embarrassed.

The repair guys looked at me with that “stupid woman” look. You know the look I’m talking about.  They told me that my brakes were metal to metal…hadn’t I noticed anything? Could my intelligence be inversely proportional to my pants size? I think I heard their eyes rolling while they dismantled my front wheels.

I work at a car restoration company, you see. With seven mechanic and body guys around me for 20 hours a week, you’d think that I’d ask one of them to look at my car. But, nooooo…. not me.

Why do I notice things that need attention and forget to do anything about them? Why does a thought cross my mind on a Monday, then suddenly it’s three weeks later and I’m wondering what kind of freaky time-space continuum I’ve been sucked into?

I can hardly wait to get the oil changed later on today.  Shoot me now.

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One Response

  1. This happens to me so often, that it’s no surprise to me that we’re related. Uggggh.

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