Yesterday I seemed destined to be back in the male dominated arenas I never wanted to be in again. One was an auto repair store which we take our Rolls Royce to a lot, so it's wasn't bad. In fact, one of the younger guys there takes good care of us.
Next up though, I went through what I thought I would never have to do again in my life, look for a mirror for Liz's car in a hot, dusty, oily junk yard with a bunch of dirty, oily guys. (Not my type)
Actually, I didn't have to do any of the talking and sort of blended into the wood work or old cars as Liz found a mirror for her Rolls.
What surprised me next was not a big surprise. Her 18 year old son who enjoys special citizen status did the "work" of calling around for the best price for the mirror. Well, he found it but didn't bother to find out if there was an extra charge to remove it yourself and how much that would be.
My problem is that auto mechanics and I have never been friends and many of the cars there looked like I worked on them-so I was the last one to even try to figure out how take a mirror off. Neither did Liz of course so we were stuck paying more. Even that wasn't so bad but the guy charged her twice what he was charging other men in the yard removing parts from cars because- you got it- she is a woman.
So all you peeps who want to jump out of perfectly good planes or the like for your bucket list, just go ahead and consider a good old hot dusty junk yard instead.
In many ways, each seemed to represent a part of my past progression to where I am now. Some I had fond memories of, some not so much. But either way, each reached out to me. Especially this one which I wore for two years until I literally wore it out.
