LooseTalk: A visit to the mechanic …

As far as swag goes, everybody has got their own, and auto mechanics are no exception. 

As far as swag goes, everybody has got their own, and auto mechanics are no exception. 

The first thing noticeable about auto mechanics is the fact that their lips and gums are almost as black as their hands. We can blame the black, greasy forehands on the engine oil and grease in the car joints, but how is one to explain the darkened lips? 

 

Well, the explanation for this strange phenomenon can be found in the hundreds of Intore cigarette butts and packets that are to be found littering every mechanic’s yard. In fact, show me a mechanic that does not inhale tobacco, and I will show you a …

 

At one point in their youthful years, most mechanics harbored ambitions of becoming a public showbiz personality. They had wanted to be in this or that professional calling that would make them instant celebrities. They wanted to be musicians, DJs, event MCs, footie stars, comedians, actors …you name it.

 

That is why, like the disc jockeys and singers and movie actors, their working spaces are usually decorated by myriads of cigarette butts and burnt out match sticks. For you my motorist friends, do you remember the last time you drove down to your regular mechanic with that engine mishap? As he lifted the lid off the bonnet to diagnose your car’s ailment, did you not see him drag thoughtfully at that mangled tobacco stick, like his entire life depended upon it? 

Mechanics also share traits with the musician and celebrity types in as far as living loosely is concerned. By living loosely, I mean that it is not uncommon to see a mechanic hard at work, as early as 9:00am, but with a splattering of Turbo or big Primus bottles very visible among his work tools.  

For the typical mechanic, a good party is just a good ride away. As in, you drop by his workshop or garage or shade, wherever it is that your mechanic operates from, pounding your Chevrolet or Cadillac Escalade or whatever make of a fuel guzzler it is that you drive. And like the true owner of a gas guzzler that you are, you surrender the Chevrolet’s keys in the mechanic’s hands, because he has the powers to repair it, while you can only drive it. 

Because it is not in the nature of owners of expensive wheels to sit idly about waiting for the car’s repairs to end, you will do the decent thing and leave your trusted mechanic with your business card, so he can contact you on accomplishment of his assignment. 

But before Mr Mechanic swag can even entertain the thought of giving you a ring, he will entertain his self-seeking ideology first, because, like most of you and me, he is only human. At exactly this point, the adage, “man-eateth-where-he-worketh” will come and completely engulf his thoughts, totally shrouding his rational judgment.  

Now that we know, man eateth where he worketh, your mechanic is not actually going to get down to eating your hard earned car. Instead, he wants to “eat” life in it, by calling up the people that most easily remind him of his lost childhood hopes of a life in the celebrity lane –women and his up-and-coming musician friends. 

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