Broken engines & bullshit

I laughed as I hung up the phone.  A male friend spent an hour describing an argument he had with the serpentine belt of his car.  Apparently, unarmed with the knowledge of what the belt’s actual function was, he lost the fight and spent several hours stranded on the side of a deserted road.   After my obvious shock of learning of a man who is mechanically impaired, (I was not aware such creatures existed), I wiped the tears of laughter from my face. My dad was responsible for my enlightenment about the importance of basic car repair.  I remember my own experience with automotive rebellion.

In my early twenties, 'Lucy' was my teacher. She was a deep-maroon 1986 Reliant K with a 2.5-liter engine. Shaped like a cereal box on wheels, my little 4-door sedan was anything but sexy.  Even the 5-speed manual transmission (normally a feature that makes you feel at least a LITTLE sporty) could not change the fact that you felt as appealing as if you were barhopping with a nun.  There was absolutely no sensuality to this car.  One particularly wintry day, this Reliant (as in: derivative of the word 'reliable'-adjective:  having or exhibiting reliability, dependable...really, look it up) appeared to have forgotten its purpose.  Rushing out to the parking lot, late for work as usual, I turned the key expecting to hear the familiar drone of her engine. Hamsters exercising in their wheel sounded more powerful than this car. Instead, a low chorus of hub, hub, hub, pffftt assaulted my ears shortly before she gasped her final breath.  Trudging back inside, I made the call to my employer who felt it necessary to scream about my lack of reliability. Ironic, isn't it?  I hub, hub, hub, pffftt-ed at him and proceeded to hang up and look for a mechanic.  

Now, any female will tell you there is NOTHING worse than trying to find a mechanic. This becomes especially unnerving when you are attempting to explain the problem to some guy in a blue shirt whose name patch looks like it says 'Mary' because there is so much grease covering it.
 

I replicated the noise I heard for 'Mary' as he looked at me dumbfounded. For a moment, I envisioned his eyes rolling back in his head just before he viciously attacked me with an exhaust pipe.  As the cigarette dangling on his lip released a long stream of ashes that fell squarely into his pocket, I could not help but feel completely clueless and totally exposed as a female. I tried to comfort myself by imagining how vulnerable he would feel if he were to walk into a gourmet kitchen (my ‘hood’) but the dunce cap I imagined on my head would not go away.
 

'Mary' looked at me in wide-eyed wonder before pulling his ash-covered pen from his breast pocket, taking my name and telling me to have a seat.
"It's gonna be at least an hour before we're done diagnosing it." Smoke escaped from his lips with every word, mingling with my expensive perfume and soaking me in that bar-chick smell.  I'd never felt more attractive in a cheap-bowling-alley way.
 

Amidst stares from the rest of the fraternity brothers gathered in the waiting area, I grabbed a seat in the furthest corner and hid my face behind the first magazine I found. 'Car and Driver', the summer issue from 1972.  I'd been looking forward to reading that one.  No chance of finding a copy of Cosmo or People magazine at that dive.
 

Minutes ticked away like hours.  ESPN blared the latest football scores and re-played game highlights.  The good old boys in the waiting room discussed athlete's salaries and became belligerent about who-deserves-what.  Their conversation got louder by the minute.
 

"It's a fuckin' game, damn it!"  A few heads turned in my direction. I assumed they were waiting for me to comment on their language but I'm not stupid.  Objecting would have the equivocal consequences of walking into an NFL locker rooms and screaming, "Football is for sissies!"
 I ducked quietly behind my magazine and read about the 'amazing new Ford Pinto' with eager anticipation.

"Buncha pampered asses… don't know how good they got it!" The conversation raged on.  All I could think was,  'I want my Dad'.
 

Seventy-two minutes later, 'Mary' called me to the counter.
"You got a bad carburetor. Need to replace it.  You’re probably looking at about three-hundred bucks when you add labor." He growled at me with an evil smirk.
 I twisted my face into a knot. Something didn't add up."My carburetor," I asked, "How can that be?"
He laughed a 'holier-than-thou' laugh.  "Yeah lady, you got a vacuum leak. Do you know what that is? It means you gotta replace your carburetor." He turned to the brothers who were hanging on every word and rolled his eyes. They smiled in conspiracy.
 "Yes, yes, I know what that means.  I just have one question."
 He looked at me with disgust.  I could almost see him gloating over his imagined superiority.
"What's that, doll?"
 I took a deep breath, summoning all my courage.
"My car is fuel injected, Mary, so how can it need a carburetor?"  His eyes took on a deer in the headlight look as I continued. "1986 saw the end of the 2.6 liter engine and the addition of fuel injection on the 2.2.  The five-speed manual became standard, and a 2.5-liter engine was standard. This 2.5 had single-point fuel injection.”
At that point, the cigarette fell from his mouth.
 

"A carburetor supplies a pre-emulsified froth of fuel and air into the engine at a preset ratio while fuel injection sprays droplets of fuel at the proper air-to-fuel ratio all the time. NEITHER of these have anything to do with a vacuum leak.  So tell me again. Why do I need to replace a part that my car does not have in the first place?"
 

'Mary's' brothers in arms deserted him suddenly, heading for the coffee machine with untold speed.
 

"Uh, um, I must've looked at the wrong work order, Miss."  He stuttered with newfound humility.  "I'll check that out and be right back."  He slithered timidly back to the shop area.
 

When I left the building, I had a new vacuum hose in place, 'MARV'S' sincerest apologies and a greater respect for my Dad.  He was a car salesman for over twenty years.  He encouraged me to learn what I could about my vehicle so I would not be taken advantage of by mechanics looking to make an easy buck.  Bless you, Dad.  If you are up there listening, thank you very much.  That knowledge came in handy ten years later when I rebuilt the cylinder head on my Ford Probe...by myself.  The guy at the auto parts store wasn't very helpful.  I think his name was Roberta, but I'm not sure.  His shirt was pretty greasy.

30 Things Driver's Ed Never Taught Me

I was lucky. I had a great driving instructor in high school. He was patient, funny and had nerves of steel. Anyone who knew him will tell you the same story. He was well known for his introduction at the beginning of every semester; "My name is Frank Liller. My friends call me Frank. YOU are not my friends."  He always did his best to look as stern as possible but once in the car with him, his sense of humor took over. Some of my best high school memories are from those Saturday mornings spent in the driver's ed car with him and a varied mixture of other wannabe drivers.  

Now, thirty seven years later, I find myself talking to my oldest granddaughter who will soon be learning to drive, and I can still hear Mr. Liller's voice in my head. I always try to give her the same advice he gave us and I hope she'll be a safe, considerate and responsible driver, but I've also learned after all these years on the road, that we weren't exactly given ALL the information.

So I've come up with some of my own rules and I felt compelled to share. Please feel free to add your own in the comment section. I'm sure there are a lot I've missed.  Happy driving everyone and always, ALWAYS be safe.

Vicky's Rules-Things my driver's ed course never taught me.

1. I have a confession: Sometimes I won't use my turn signal just because I'm lazy. I have noticed I am not alone in this behavior. Consider yourself warned. I have also noticed that I (and others) occasionally use the turn signal continuously. I have been known to forget to shut it off and be completely oblivious as to why people are waving, flashing their lights and honking at me in an attempt to point out my idiocy. I am now 52 years old and somewhat forgetful at times. I plan on sticking with this excuse for my lapses in judgement for the remainder of my life. Suck it up!  I'll do what I want.

2. If you follow me too closely I may tap the brakes every few seconds, just to piss you off. When I'm not in a hurry, no one else is allowed to be either

3. Contrary to rule #2, if I am following you and you continually hit your brakes for no apparent reason, I reserve the right to loudly declare you an idiot, pass you, and then proceed with acting out rule #2.

4. If you come speeding up next to me when there was a huge sign saying your lane is ending, I have the right to ignore you and then giggle uncontrollably when you are forced off the road. Similarly, if you approach a construction zone where everyone is CLEARLY waiting in line to merge and it is obvious you're going to attempt to cut into the front of the line, I am allowed to pull just far enough out of line to prevent you from passing us. I will not have to worry about regaining my place in line because the other drivers have seen what a jerk you are and will gladly allow me to re-occupy my spot.  The rule is 'wait your turn and suffer like the rest of us', you jackass.

5. If I see you stuck by the side of the road because you've run out of gas, I will not stop and pick you up. If you're not smart enough to remember to put gas in your car, you have no business driving one.

6. Headlights, bumpers and windshield wipers are VITAL  parts of your vehicle. So are doors. If you are missing more than two of these items, please see a mechanic or do not drive it. Also, please be advised that cardboard, plastic and duct tape are not suitable replacements for a window. ESPECIALLY a rear window.

7. Discovering your exit is coming up next on the right while you are in the far left lane, does not entitle you to cut off 3 or more lanes of traffic to get to it.   

8. Additionally, if you missed your exit because you were too busy talking on that cell phone that is illegal to use (without a hands-free device), the rest of us are required to not only keep you from exiting there but to prevent you from getting off the freeway anywhere for the next five miles.

9. The people from the Guinness Book of World Records are not following your vehicle. So it is not necessary to try and set any records for multi-tasking while driving. No one is impressed that you can eat your egg McMuffin, drink your coffee, check your email and call your office while driving perfectly. The reason we are not impressed is that you SUCK AT IT! You are weaving all over the road, you pompous ass! Put it all down and DRIVE!!

10. Every scratch and dent on my car was put there by Asian women drivers. This is not racist or profiling, this is FACT. No matter where I am, if I see an Asian woman driving anywhere in my vicinity, I WILL take evasive action. Please do not be offended.  Because of these incidents, my mechanic has been on several luxury vacations so I am now convinced he has these drivers searching me out because he wants to take his family to Jamaica. I may have to take a second job to keep him in the lifestyle to which he has become accustomed.

11. Roll your windows up if you're going to blast your music while driving in the city. I am not impressed that you're 55 years old and still remember the words to "I can't get no satisfaction."  I like the Rolling Stones too, but I would rather hear THEM singing it.  If you do not have a Grammy, please don't serenade us. It's a red light. We're trapped there with your horrible voice and no aspirin.

12.  I am not impressed when you 'peel out'...especially if you're doing it between stop lights that are two hundred feet apart so 30 seconds later you're next to me at a red light...again

13. If I'm trying to merge on to the highway and there is no one on the other side of you, please move over and let me in. I promise I'll stay behind you for that hundredth of a second you will save by cutting me off.

14. Pulling out into a busy road and not sure you have enough time to join traffic? Do us all a favor and count to 10. If it's clear, pull out. If not, you probably just saved yourself and someone else from a life flight ride to the hospital because of your impatience.  Way to go!

15. The surest way to make me slow down to a crawl is by tailgating and honking your horn at me.  My husband taught me this. Unless you or someone you love is bleeding profusely, dying or something is on fire, you're just going to have to wait. If you're so late for work or your kids soccer game/birthday party or a date, that you have to go 85mph, chances are whoever is waiting for you is already pissed, so why be in a hurry to get yelled at.

16. When waiting in line, I will usually let you go in front of me...unless you're that idiot who just forces his way in by nearly hitting my car. I drive an older model vehicle which has already been abused by the aforementioned Asian woman in rule #10. I also live in a 'no fault insurance' state. So I have no problem allowing my beat up car to mark it's territory on your shiny BMW or Jaguar. I also carry the minimum car insurance necessary, so my rates won't go up because you're a dick. Think about it. You have a lot more to lose than I do.

17.  Passing me on icy roads going 60 mph will lead to my hysterical laughter and a congratulatory "nice driving" wave when I pass your car in the ditch a few miles up the road.

18. If I allow you to merge in front of me and you don't give me the 'thank you' wave, expect me to cut you off the first chance I get, you ungrateful bastard. Didn't anyone teach you manners?

19. I'm happy you love your Rottweiler, poodle, insert-pet-name-here. I also don't care. Please don't feel the need to litter the back of your car with stickers proclaiming your love. It's distracting and truthfully a little disturbing. I love my dogs too but I don't plaster it all over my vehicle.

20. I'm glad your bumper sticker says you're proud of your honor student. Have you told your child that or is it just your intention to make the other parents who don't have honor students feel like failures? I have to wonder about your motives. .

21. Parents whose bumper stickers say 'My kid can beat up your honor student' should be commended.  Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, you twisted individual. See a therapist immediately!!

22. If I see you've taken up two parking spaces by parking diagonally so no one will hit your precious car, I will assume you are blind, take the appropriate action and have your car towed.

23. As previously mentioned, my car is full of dents and scratches because well, I DRIVE it, I don't coddle it. I would rather coddle the PEOPLE in my life, not the material things. That being said, don't be surprised if, when you leave me 6 inches of space to open my door, I reciprocate by leaving YOU a little something on YOUR door.

24. Please do not be tempted to use twine and tape to re-attach any parts that have fallen or been knocked off your car. No good can come of this and it speaks volumes about you to other drivers. Also do not, under any circumstances think that coloring your missing brake lights with a red sharpie or your daughter's Crayola is an acceptable replacement for buying a new bulb.  Seriously.

25. Putting makeup on while driving. The only thing this will accomplish is to make you look good at the morgue. Stop it!

26. If you are not comfortable driving on the freeway, stay off of it! Merging with 70 mph traffic while going 35 mph should be considered reckless endangerment. I am convinced a large amount of accidents are caused by people not keeping up with the flow of traffic. I'm all in favor or a Zen-like lifestyle, but if you're going to meditate, please don't do it in traffic. I have no doubt Buddha would agree with this.

27. Some genius decided traffic signs would be helpful. It's also helpful if you READ them. They're even more helpful if you don't wait until the last second to do what they tell you.

28. Occasionally my car decides it's tired and wants to rest for awhile. You wouldn't be swearing because you're stuck behind me if you hadn't thought it would be fun to see how close you could get to my bumper. What? No, I would never fake a stalled car just to get back at someone for tailgating....(wink, wink.)

29. If you cannot parallel park a self-parking car, run, do not walk to the licensing agency nearest you and surrender your license. Really. Do it. Someone obviously made a serious error in judgment.

And last but not least...

30. If you're riding in a limo for some reason, it is mandatory that you lower a window and allow the cars surrounding you to see if you're someone famous or influential.  Some of us might think you're an Oscar winning director who looks at us plain folk in the car next to you and says "That face! It's perfect for my next film and I'm going to make her rich and famous!!"

Okay, well maybe that last one's just me.