I don’t normally use these quickie oil change joints, preferring to use my regular mechanic, Frank. However, Frank moved about five miles away and the quickie place is right here, and they are quick. So, I took my beloved Ford Ranger there, and then went back again with my wife’s vehicle. Sitting in the waiting room was interesting. There were the guys there, reading fishing magazines or last year’s Newsweek. Some of us even dared to take some of the free gourmet coffee. Luckily the coffee cups were stainless steel so the java didn’t immediately burn a hole in the bottom of the mug. Still, ya had to drink swiftly.
Then, there were the ladies. I’m assuming they were single, because what husband would allow his wife to go get the oil changed in their car? None. So, they must have been single. The guys had calm looks on our faces. Despite the gourmet coffee and fishing magazines. That’s because we know cars. When the 18 year old “service advisor” pulled our vehicle up on the computer and showed us the 37 items “the factory” says our car/truck needs serviced right away otherwise our entire vehicle could explode, showering tiny little parts all over the city and possibly causing major league baseball teams to leave town, we know enough to say “bullshit, just change the oil and the filter.†When they show you the air filter, we know enough to tell them to just put it back in the car, no, we don’t want new wiper blades either. Just change the damn oil and screw on a fresh filter!
But the girls…….oooohhhhh they looked like a rabbit that just fell into a dog pound full of naked beagles. They had no clue about the rules, about cars, and they knew they were going to get ripped off. They had this look on their faces like they were in a foreign country and didn’t know the language.
Try this test some day. Walk up to five men and ask them when their vehicle last had an oil change. Not only will they all tell you (except the gay one, who doesn’t count anyway) but they will tell you what type of oil, and how many more miles until the next one. Now, walk up to a hundred single women of any age, ask them the last time they got an oil change and I bet you three wet muskrats that you won’t get one of them who had an oil change, ever. This is why statistics show that those red “oil be gone your engine just seized up” lights on cars always light up on single women’s cars. They don’t get oil changes, because it is a painful experience. I mean, just the guys starring at their butts is bad enough.
So, why doesn’t someone invent a Women’s Only Oil Change Shoppe? Owned by women, managed by women, staffed by women. The waiting room would be five times larger, and there would be carpet instead of a red concrete floor. Soft comfy chairs, lots and lots of this month’s women’s magazines, a playroom for the kids, 17 types of fresh exotic teas and no fat cookies. Large screen TVs, nice music playing through a real music system, instead of a 1978 transistor radio with a clothes hanger for an antenna stuck between two oil cans on the top shelf. Yes, a real nice place.
And when the women bring their cars in for service – no men. And more than that, just oil changes. No disassembling the vehicle and showing you all the parts spread out on the red concrete floor and claiming that everything is bad. Nope. This women’s only Shoppe would just do oil and filter changes. Maybe nails too, and sure, maybe a facial too.
If someone hasn’t invented this, then they should. I betcha they will make a million dollars!
My good citizen idea for the day.
Peace out people
SCG


Just some guy with a blog; posting photos, fiction, tech articles along with some humor and sarcasm. Enjoy!



