It’s a hot July afternoon and my husband and I have just dropped our truck Bridgette off for another “makeover” at our local mechanic.
As we walk up the street past a State Patrol vehicle waiting for maintenance, a stream of expletives erupts from the rear wall of the shop. We turn and look back at the edifice, then at each other appreciatively.
Not every mechanic has this kind of passion.
As we speculate about the nature of the injury, another volley punches a hole through the distant sounds of traffic coming from the main thoroughfare. We glance around and are thankful we’re back a couple of blocks.
This must be a doozy. Strangely, we find the barrage reassuring.
While a lot of people buy a new vehicle when faced with larger car repairs, we fix what we already have rather than buy a whole new can of worms from the lot down the street.
We figure about a third of our beloved 1986 Ford F-250 (Bridgette), and the Durango (The Mountain Goat), is still original. At least we know what’s under their hoods and who did the work.
Bridgette’s “curb” appeal is increasing with her years but it comes at a price. Think of Aunt Alice needing a hip replacement. You wouldn’t spare a dime although her personality hasn’t aged as well. The comparison assures me I’m going to hell as I feel I may have offended the truck.
We’ll be expecting “the call” after Bridgette is inspected but thinking of automobiles as indispensable modern day horses eases the impact. The usual presence of law enforcement vehicles outside the shop also helps; they appear to have a government contract for maintenance.
We climb into the Durango and head out, knowing Bridgette is in good hands. Besides, we think; if it’s good enough for the State Patrol, it’s good enough for her.