mechanics...gotta love em. considering the majority are men, me being a worse than typical female, always have a field day adventure when dealing with them. -which, as of late, has been all too frequent.
it has gotten to the point where i have had to revise my own personal rider and appraise them of it, BEFORE another pleasantry is exchanged...
example:
i just bought an eclipse, solely for 2 reasons...it was a bunch of prettiness in a sleek and sporty package, and it had cruise control. that's it. the day i drove it off the lot, i proceeded to take it on a 3,000 mile road-trip. not kidding. i have a lead foot, and find myself playing a deranged game of chicken while attempting to pass semi trucks. if there are only 2 lanes, do not think i won't make use of the shoulder. this is also my view of the suicide lane. (hence, the 'suicide' part in my opinion...) i didn't even know what the definition of a speedometer was until highway patrol explained it to me. (those guys are so nice...)
please, do not bother asking me what odd noises are coming from any part of my vehicle. i have an awesome pioneer system with a bazooka in the back. it's a wonder i can hear myself THINK over the blaring of Korn, or Five Finger Death Punch.
as for noticing if it drives 'funny' - yeeaaahh....
my response will be something akin to "well i noticed it didn't clear that last ditch i took very well..."
i am nearsighted and night-blind, and i don't wear the glasses i should. to name the things i actually HAVE ran over would take days to recall.
on the topic of transmission- ok look, all i know is it's an automatic with something some guy called a 'slapstick'. now, my definition of a slapstick and his- i guarantee you- do not correlate. (seeing as MY version you would never find in a car)
don't even think of inquiring about the vehicle's fluids. i put gas in the damn thing to ensure a forward momentum- that's the extent of it.
and for the fucking love- DO NOT tell me i really should learn more about the operation of my car. if i did that, i wouldn't need a fucking mechanic, and my money would simply be redirected toward another retarded venue.
so...shut up, fix the car, take my money, and i'll see you in about a year when my negligence has once again warranted a visit with you.
in my opinion, it's a woman's job to fuck mechanical shit up- it's a man's to fix it. i just happen to do MY job very very well.
it has gotten to the point where i have had to revise my own personal rider and appraise them of it, BEFORE another pleasantry is exchanged...
example:
i just bought an eclipse, solely for 2 reasons...it was a bunch of prettiness in a sleek and sporty package, and it had cruise control. that's it. the day i drove it off the lot, i proceeded to take it on a 3,000 mile road-trip. not kidding. i have a lead foot, and find myself playing a deranged game of chicken while attempting to pass semi trucks. if there are only 2 lanes, do not think i won't make use of the shoulder. this is also my view of the suicide lane. (hence, the 'suicide' part in my opinion...) i didn't even know what the definition of a speedometer was until highway patrol explained it to me. (those guys are so nice...)
please, do not bother asking me what odd noises are coming from any part of my vehicle. i have an awesome pioneer system with a bazooka in the back. it's a wonder i can hear myself THINK over the blaring of Korn, or Five Finger Death Punch.
as for noticing if it drives 'funny' - yeeaaahh....
my response will be something akin to "well i noticed it didn't clear that last ditch i took very well..."
i am nearsighted and night-blind, and i don't wear the glasses i should. to name the things i actually HAVE ran over would take days to recall.
on the topic of transmission- ok look, all i know is it's an automatic with something some guy called a 'slapstick'. now, my definition of a slapstick and his- i guarantee you- do not correlate. (seeing as MY version you would never find in a car)
don't even think of inquiring about the vehicle's fluids. i put gas in the damn thing to ensure a forward momentum- that's the extent of it.
and for the fucking love- DO NOT tell me i really should learn more about the operation of my car. if i did that, i wouldn't need a fucking mechanic, and my money would simply be redirected toward another retarded venue.
so...shut up, fix the car, take my money, and i'll see you in about a year when my negligence has once again warranted a visit with you.
in my opinion, it's a woman's job to fuck mechanical shit up- it's a man's to fix it. i just happen to do MY job very very well.
now, care to ask why i'm still single?.....
wow...hey I nominated you for a blog award, see here: http://drrux.blogspot.com/2011/04/overloard-award.html
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