Today, my manhood got shaken. (And NO, i don't mean someone had thier hand around lil Polt and was shaking him. Sheesh, not EVERYTHING I talk about it porn-related...well, most things, but not everything! But I digress...)
I needed to get new windshield wipers. But I have no idea what kind to get. Nor, actually, how to replace them. Several years ago, my mother and I attempted to replace them, and took well over an hour to do so, and actually got them on the wrong wipers. Neither of us knew then that one was longer than the other. Any way, since then, wipers are something I leave to the professionals.
Now, i dont know how it is in other countries, or even other parts of this country, but around here, well, REAL men are supposed to know thier vehicles. they know how many miles per gallon, the tork, if she has a "hemi" (I still don't what that is), how to change the oil, and fix the shocks, and what a catalitic converters is, and what that banging noise means. REAL men are supposed to be able to pop the hood, stare at the engine for a few moments whilst rubbing thier chin, and then dig right in and fix whatever problems may exist.
Me? I can drive it, check the oil, add the wiper fluid and put gas in it. Other than that, you might as well put in front of jumbo jet and tell me to fix its problem. no clue.
Going to an auto parts store and asking about wipers isn't too bad a blow to my 'male psyche'. Asking the guy behind the counter (usually younger than me, and some one I'd rather have working the back seat of the car as opposed to working under the hood) to change the blades for me is embarrassing enough. I can almost hear the guys "harumph", thinking, "Can't even repleace wiper blades....tsk tsk. How sad. Clearly he's not a REAL man. Bet he even pees sitting down." But I'm willing to put with all this cause, well, i NEED to new wipers so I can see while I drive in the rain.
HOWEVER, today I went in, and behind the counter was....A WOMAN! All the male employees were otherwise occupied with customers. Asking a WOMAN to do this for few felt akin to having to ask a WOMAN about buying my first jockstrap in 7th grade, or a WOMAN about different condoms a few years later! How embarrassing those things would have been! And this felt the same. It was serious blow to my manhood.
BUT..........I needed to see when I'm driving in the rain, so what could I do? I asked the woman for help. First she asked what kind of car. I knew THAT! I know the year, make and model, I'm not a TOTAL pussy. But then she says, "What brand?" And I was like, "....Brand?" "Oh yeah, I got Torsk, and I got Benes, and I got Brockmans, which do you want?" (By the way, these are NOT real company names, but she rattled them off so fast, like I should already know what brand...) So a few moments of looking at her stupidly passed and I said, "Um.....which is the cheapest?" And she proceeded, at fast speed, to rattle off the price of each brand. Again, I didn't catch the names or the prices, so I just said, "Um, not the cheapest, what was the next highest brand?" I didn't want to appear poor, in addition to clearly not being a REAL man.
So she went to get them and as she was ringing them up I said, "Ya know, before, I've had issues getting these things on so could you-" and she looked at me pitifully, like she would at someone with no legs, or someone blind, or someone....clearly not a REAL man. And she interrupted me and said, "Yeah...I'll put them on."
I paid for them, she gave me the receipt and out the door she went, me trailing behind her like a lost puppy dog. I just stood there and watched her do it, keep my head low and my hands in my pockets trying to blend in with my jacket because of all the cars going by on the major road in front of the store. i KNEW people were looking as they by, seeing her doing and thinking, "Hmm, SHE has to put his wipers on. He's OBVIOUSLY not a REAL man!"
She finished, I thanked her, and I slid into my car and slunk off, with what scraps of dignity I had remaining. On the way home, I made myself feel better by telling myself she was probably a lesbian. A bull dyke at that. Ain't not man, even a REAL man, that's a match for a bull dyke. Yeah, that's it, a lesbian....yeah.......
POLT
If you're gonna be assassinated, might as well get the perfect carpet first, that's what I always say. - Black Canary, Birds Of Prey #87
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2 comments:
Aww... poor Polt. I feel for ya. That has definitely got to be a blow to the ego. But on the up side at least you can see while its raining now :)
Also, fyi... I'm pretty much a girly girl, but its torq (with a q) and catalytic convertor (with a y). Don't sweat it tho. I can put gas in my car and that's about it, so you're one up on me. I save oil changes and windshield wiper fill ups for the hotties at Valvoline.
nope...nope....never felt that way in my life. about cars anyway. somewhere along the line I learnt (sp?) that there are professionals for everything and I was not going to be a car professional. I'm lucky that I can even drive to work and get there in one piece. (hahaha....and you let me drive on all of those trips to the beach and Toronto and downtown DC....little did you know I was lucky to even get my license) I have never once changed the oil in my car. I know that the dealer told me to do it every 5000 miles so that's when I take it in. I know there's a dipstick or dipshit or something in the engine, but be damned if I've ever tried to find it. Wiper blades I've messed up several times. The the communist state of Sanjaya where I used to live we had to have an safety inspection every year where the first thing they would get you on was wiper blades....so after the first few years you knew you were better off just putting new ones on before going for the communist inspection. I broke a couple of them and scraped up my hands a few times....should have had a professional do it.
Fairy Fairy Godfather.
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