I like to think that I am an independent modern woman that can move with the times. I pay the bills for our household, I sometimes mow the lawn, and I can get the oil changed on my car by myself. Sort of. Here is the thing, I have a few phobias in life. One, is using down escalators in department stores and malls. I don't know why, but I have had this phobia since I was about 8 years old. I am just able to mask it better at this age, usually. First, it is necessary to ascertain the rhythm of the escalator before I reach it, otherwise I have to pause at the top and do this, which makes my phobia more noticeable, especially to people waiting behind me.. There have been those rare occasions that I just move aside and let them bypass me, because the pressure of people watching is just too much. It helps that my eldest has somehow inherited this phobia, so I can pretend I am just waiting on her now, as long as I am not alone that is.
My second phobia, is driving my car over "the pit" to have my oil changed. I do fine, until they start using hand motions indicating to move left, then right, slow down, speed up. Good grief! By the time I am in the correct spot I have broken out in a sweat as if I had just had a good workout. It doesn't help me, that I have to accelerate my vehicle to go up the ramps on either side of the pit. That extra bit of gas that I have to give, makes me concerned that it will all go to hell in a hand basket very quickly. But, I was determined. I had a $15 off coupon, and it expired today, and my hubby has been super sick, so there was no way he could do it. On my way, I determined that I would be VERY firm, no extras today. They always mention extras like new air filters, transmission fluid, new wipers, and tire rotation. I was going for the oil change and that was it. The only thing they mentioned was the tire rotation, and I said, "No, thank you." This was answered with a, "but you are due to have that done." Why can't my no, just be no?! Squirming uncomfortably I returned his penetrating stare."Um, I think my husband had it done somewhere else recently. I would have to check. So no, not today." That was a total lie. Then I felt guilty for lying. Grrr.
At least, I thought, the worst part was over. Until, that is, he told me we were going to do signal checks. "Flash your brights!" Hmm...I NEVER use my brights. I flipped what I thought was the brights. Nope. I sprayed my windshield with fluid. "I NEED you to FLASH your brights!" He said it slower and louder, as if the extra emphasis would presumably help my momentary lapse in understanding English. Maybe if I pushed the lever the other direction the brights would illuminate....not that either. The other direction also caused spray to cover the windshield. Well crap. I sat there looking puzzled. "Try the lever on the other side!", he suggested impatiently. Cautiously I flicked it. Voila! Brights! Relief! "Passenger side signal, brake lights, driver side signal!" These commands were barked rather quickly. Which translated for me as: driver side blinker, passenger blinker, brights back on, brake light, regular lights, brights turned off. This pattern of signals was met with a "never mind" hand dismissal, and a shake of his head, indicating that I was in fact hopeless. I tried to pretend like I had done everything perfectly, attitude is half the battle, right?
Finally, it was time to leave this miserable errand, not to be repeated for at least 3 months. As I started to pull my car forward, he was waving me out with his hands, and then stopped me. He yelled, "You need to go to the left or your car will fall in the pit!" Seriously? It felt like an eternity as I sat frozen in fear, though it was no more than a couple of seconds. My left or his left? He didn't motion with his hands to tell me. Surely, he meant my left, didn't he? Obviously, the driver side/passenger side explanation didn't work so well in the signal test, so now he resorted to using only the word "left" Carefully, I edged to my left, and hoped for the best. Do you ever find, that when you are making certain movements with your car that you move your entire body the same way? I am sure shifting my body to the left made all the difference between plummeting into the pit and making it out safely. As I emerged from the garage, he said, "Glad you didn't drive into the pit." As if he seriously considered that a possibility with me behind the wheel. Little turd. Though, I guess I can't really blame him for doubting my skills.
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