I have to take my truck in for repairs soon. I suspect it’s possessed, as something in the glove box screams when I turn on the left blinker and blood sprays out of the vents when I try to use the AC. These things I can deal with, but also it sometimes doesn’t want to start and the steering is a bit wobbly.
So I need a mechanic. And an exorcist, but first things first. Now, I have a problem when I take my truck in for repairs: despite being a reasonably large, hairy man with a diverse and impressive collection of bungie cords, I know nothing about how cars work.
Oh, I can pick out a car pretty well. If you had a line-up consisting of a stegosaurus, a clown, a car, and a Nintendo 64, I would pick out the car an easy 9 times out of 10. And if you happen to open the hood of a car, I can easily identify the engine, the radiator, the battery, the flippy thing, that thing that’s really expensive to fix, and the other thing that’s really, really expensive to fix.
However, you can’t show weakness in front of the mechanic or he’ll think less of you as a man. So, when I go to the mechanic and he presents me with a list of things that are wrong with my truck, I put on my Serious Frowny Face ™ and inspect the list with all the gravity of a General sending soldiers into battle. I will grunt and nod and try to ask questions that don’t sound idiotic.
“What’s this ‘brake light’ listed here?” I’ll say.
“That’s the red light on the back of the truck that lets other people know you’re stopping.”
“And what’s wrong with it?”
“It doesn’t work.”
“Ah.” I will then frown some more and point at something else. “What’s this?”
“Hmmmmm. Okay, I’m on board with the brake light thing, but this here doesn’t make much sense.”
“That’s your name, sir.”
“Good to know. And what’s a Flux Capacitor?”
“That collects and stores the Flux.”
“My truck has one of those?”
“Huh. Y’know, I don’t recall ever hearing about that before. I mean, I think I would have noticed a car commercial saying ‘now with a bigger Flux Capacitor or something.’”
“That’s because your truck is old. Newer ones have Ion Capacitors.”
“That would explain it.”
“Great. Now please give me all of your money.”
Now obviously, they know I don’t know anything about cars. I know it. They know it. Everyone knows it. I just hope that they’re at least semi-honest and don’t bilk me on anything.
Besides, they don’t know Muffin likes to curl up behind the seat. There’s also a small sign that says ‘I have anti-venom. Let’s make a deal.’