The Accidental Padawan

Obtaining any level of car maintenance always proves to be the bane of my existence. Next to New York City real estate agents, Brutus and Judas, I imagine car mechanics wind up in the Inner Circle.

Throughout my life, I have probably spent more time dealing with automotive issues than I have in taking care of myself. From driving more than 20 hours to fetch my car "Christine" in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina after my college spring break to waiting weeks in smelly waiting rooms that I can never get back for a simple automotive repair, I have not have much luck with cars. At 18 months of age, the 4th Stooge threw a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a car mechanic's face after the mechanic started yelling at me because I refused to pay $125 for the 4 hour car battery installation. Lightning has also hit me while I was driving a car.



Today, I went into my local Jiffy Lube to get a simple oil change. I brought the Good Calories, Bad Calories book and began to read the 500 plus pages. There were two available seats next to me. The rest were taken.

While I was reading, a young guy comes in and sits down right next to me, not following (or caring) about the unwritten social rule of maintaining personal space when possible.

Suddenly, he looks at the TV and begins talking loudly about how electrical dog fences should be used on kids since we use leashes on them anyway. He admits to not having any children.

I quietly prayed that he does not reproduce.

As I'm trying to get through the prologue of the book, he asks, "What are you reading?"

I silently showed him the cover.

"Wow. I couldn't imagine reading a book with so many pages. I think I'd burn up all my calories just reading that."

Wishful thinking.

He interpreted my weak smile as a green light to continue. "So what do you do for a living?"

I told him that I was a nurse and a writer (someone outside of cyberspace does pay me to do so for a paltry living).

"Wow! Maybe I should think about doing that. I took some journalism courses. Hey, what do you think of my comedy act? I made you smile," he replied.

"Where do you perform your comedy acts?" I asked, making a mental note to make sure that I skip that show.

He mentions a nearby town.

"You need to take your act somewhere else. That's a tough town," I reply in a deadpan voice.

"You're funny! You should be in comedy!," he says genuinely. "But, you're right. I need to know my audience. That is great advice!," he replied enthusiastically.

"Where are you from?"

"New York," I answered, thinking he might get the subtle hint that my kind isn't particularly keen on talking with strangers.

"You came all the way here to get an oil change? Ha! Ha! Anyway, this is the last oil change for my car. It's on its last legs. I'll probably donate it to kids. But, what do kids need with an old car anyway?," he thought.

"Sell it for parts," I replied.

"That's a great idea! You are full of them!," he answers. "Hey, do you have an extra coupon?," he said pointing to the extra one I was using as a bookmark.

"Sure, here it is," I handed it over to him.

"I learned so much from you today..." and then the store manager said my car was ready.

I quickly jumped up. The Accidental Padawan was left talking to himself.