Vehicles & Their People

While the topic is sort of mundane, an amusing and interesting thread began in my mind yesterday as my truck and I visited the final service facility for his scheduled maintenance.

"Lance" is my truck and he is a ‘91 Chevy S-10 model. We’d done the oil change and lube at Precision Tune, the tire rotation at Firestone, had replaced some miscellaneous blown out light bulbs ourselves, and were now at Pep Boys to get the transmission fluid exchanged, the windshield wipers replaced, and two additional bulbs inserted (that can only be inserted when the truck is on a lift). I stand in line with the other customers. Just ahead of me, a woman, perhaps around age 40, says to the service manager "It still stops, but it takes a while ... it’s kind of scary". (!) I cringe, inwardly; I mean it’s more than just "kind of scary"... imagine being on the same road with her and her vehicle as they "take a while" to stop.

Fortunately there is a jovial elderly gentleman, all smiles, and he brightens the vibe in the room as the line moves forward. I have reached the desk and sign in, handing over Lance’s keys, and then advancing into the waiting room. It isn't too bad ("bad" defined as "noisy" and/or crowded); the television is at an acceptable volume. Through the prattle of a re-run of The Price Is Right, I make several phone calls to try and get a ride to avoid sitting there for the two hour wait.

Whenever I find myself in a waiting room, I am conscious of the different types and combinations of people who are also there. I’ve noticed I deliberately take mental notes ever since one of my psychology class assignments (years ago), which required me to visit a hospital ER waiting room for a period of hours and observe the interactions and probable relationships between prospective patients and accompanying friends and relatives -- as well the mannerisms of people who were there alone. A lively, elderly lady in denim capri pants is talkative, hard-of-hearing, and constantly scurries back and forth between the waiting room and the work area. Her companion is matronly-looking and quiet, as she stays put in her chair. Then, in come three men, two of whom are together, dressed in denim jeans and white tee shirts; they sit and just play with their cell phones. The third man is dressed in a suit and tie and is obviously on a work break, marking the time he has to wait, rather tensely. My cell phone rings ... one of my phone messages has been retrieved and a ride is on its way to pick me up.

It occurs to me, as it has in the past, how attached (as well as dependent) we tend to get regarding our vehicles. I talk to Lance every time I drive somewhere and I often give him an affectionate pat on the right side of his steering column – a gesture I liken to stroking a horse on the side of his neck. Well, Lance and I have been together for eleven years!

There is no moral to this story except that maybe it makes sense to keep one’s vehicle road-worthy instead of feeding the car manufacturers and credit companies (and subscribing to the corporate plan that churns out a gazillion new cars every year). Lance agrees!