One of the things in life I absolutely despise doing is getting an oil change done on my car. It's not that I don't love my car or want to take car of it. The problem lies first in that the minute those greese monkeys at Mr. Lube see a chick pull in they start rubbing their hands together like Donald Trump at a real estate sale. So I pull in and have been identified as an easy mark right from the get go. If that's not bad enough I then have to endure the most recent graduate of "the school of upselling". This entails hearing how my car would benefit from a more expensive oil because "the gaskets in your engine are getting old". Really buddy, what do I look like Paris Hilton, my gaskets would benefit most if you shut your pie hole and just put a couple a bottles of that nice regular oil in the reservoir and I will be in my merry way. I had the pleasure this trip of being notified that my engine light was on. Not shit Shirlock, that sucker has been on for months. So I politely told the university degree greese monkey that yes, indeed the light is on and when I hooked up the scope to the car it informed me I needed to replace my oh two sensor (nicely spelled don't ya think). Well, Mr. Monkey gave me a look like I just told him my car had a second world war land mine hidden in the trunk and didn't ya know he would be able to get me the part for that. I said it wasn't a problem, I could pick up the part and do it myself (shout out here to UTube!). Well, he says "the engine can get really hot and we have special heat resistance gloves for that job." I very politely say "Really! Hot! Well, how bout I just wait for the engine to cool then?" University monkey realized right then that I was not a commission earning jackpot and had to suddenly "fix his computer" and pawned my oil change off on the Junior Monkey. Nice. So I politely tell poor Junior that I just want a regular ole oil change. I will change my own air filter, cabin filter and go to the nearest auto parts store for that pesky oh two sensor. Really dudes? Some of us ladies know what a piston and a gasket is. Seriously!
This post, as you can imagine, will be filed under the ever growing "If I ruled the world" folder (for future reference of course because you never know when THAT job posting is going to come up!) My recommendations? How about a Mrs. Lube? I will happily help with the start up. First course: "How to talk to a woman with a little respect Jerk Face!"
