I spend a good part of every day baffled. Oh, not by anything brainy like gravitational waves or subatomic particles, but by real world stuff that completely mystifies me. Such as:
» Why are iPhone cords four inches long?
» Why does toilet paper shed pounds of lint with every pull?
» Why is Hell capitalized, but heaven isn’t?
» Why is look-alike packaging legal?
» Why do car mechanics act like I’m crazy when I describe engine trouble?
That last one happens every time I take the car in for service. They ask what the problem is and I tell them — sometimes with sound effects, sometimes with gestures — and get a condescending sneer for my trouble. Why is that? I enunciate clearly. I don’t wear a tinfoil helmet. I’m not agitated. What am I doing wrong?
Take this morning. I took the car in and turned the keys over to the service manager at his little podium or throne or whatever it’s called. When he asked what the problem was, I explained the check engine light had come on and the car seemed to chug, especially at an idle. You could feel the chugging at stoplights, I said, the car bounced. Then I imitated the engine.
And there it was, the sneer. He turned to a co-worker, handed him the keys, and announced “it bounces.” It was the way he said bounces that chapped my ass; he said it with a damn lilt in his voice. But it did, the car bounced, should I not have mentioned that? Should I not have imitated the vroom … vroom … cough … splutter .. vroom noises?
You know, maybe I should cut out the sound effects. Or sell the car and ride the bus, just avoid mechanics altogether. Although I’ll have to go back at least one more time — so they can soak me for every penny I have. Plus some.
copyright © 2016 the whirly girl
the whirly girl 
6 responses to “: and another thing :”
If they were any good they’d be able to translate our squeaks and squeals into something meaningful. Grrrshmmmmble … ah, that’s your gearbox turning to scrap metal … that kind of thing. Frrrttt … have you seen our new car range, sir/madam …
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Excellent point. Although I’m not the best oral communicator, which explains why I became a writer.
Plus, I talk to mechanics the same way I talk to babies — gibberish and hand gestures.
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Oh that pisses me off. Let me tell him off for you –
Look, asshole – I don’t know jack shit about cars. That’s why I came in HERE, to YOUR esteemed establishment, to trade YOU money for your expertise and your services. That’s how comparative advantage and the division of labor works; it’s a thing – look it up.
Now, do I think less of you because you didn’t understand a goddamned word I just said? No, of course not. You do you. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I don’t expect everyone to understand everything about my world. So don’t be a jerkwad and act like there’s something wrong with me because I don’t understand anything about your world.
How’s that? :)
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Bravo! Do you, by any chance, come in a pocket version?
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I’m taking mine in Monday. It has a brrreeekkkkshh sound. I will shut my eyes so I won’t have to witness the sneer
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See? You’re smart, that’s good. I failed to plan ahead. I expected the sneer, but the lilt caught me off-guard.
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