I took my car in this morning. Driving around in 90 degree weather with the heater on to dissipate heat from the engine burns my tootsies. And yesterday, while the gauge was climbingclimbingclimbing rising like a volcano I had a vision the floor would catch on fire and I’d be fucked. Not to mention my breaks sound like dying cats and I haven’t changed the oil in, oh, 6,000 miles or so. I even took the little sticker off the window that they usually give you so I can plead ignorance if they give me crap about it, which they won’t and I don’t know why I actually care. I have weirder problems with my car than worrying about the oil. He might wonder why there’s one piece of wood in the back seat or a rain jacket on the floor or sand in the cup holder. He might wonder about the old Texas plates, the Oklahoma one too, the duct tape.
But dammit if I’m going to pay him $800 (I’m sure) to fix my stupid car, I should be able to leave whatever I want in it. I was nice enough to turn off my radio, clean up the empty plastic bottles, tissues, destroyed CDs on the floor. Pat told me once that mechanics really appreciate it when your car is clean – it’s like going to the doctor and not showering. And ever since I’ve been paranoid that they hate me because my car is a mess.
Talking to mechanics distresses me. I have my guards up, my excuses as to why I put this kind of oil in and not this kind. It’s the same with doctors: why I ate a doughnut this morning and not a banana.
As I was driving (and watching the temperature gauge on the engine rise), I wondered why I didn’t have one of those boyfriends who takes care of these things for me? Why I had to talk, explain, pay for this dump, falling apart car that rides like a glorified mini van, an eggplant on wheels? Why do I have to talk to the mechanic later and tell him “yes, do it all. I hate you”?Why do I have to put myself in uncomfortable situations when I could simply ask someone else to do it for me? And then I remembered how independent I am. How much I WANT to do things on my own so I don’t have to rely on other to do them for me. I can change my own tires, my oil, tighten an alternator. I can go camping by myself in the woods, put up my own tent, make a damn good fire. I can cook and fix and paint my toenails. Where I lack is in emotional need. Over-dependence emotionally. But it helps to see what I can do in the physical world. It helps to know that at my core I’m an independent being.
Leave a Reply