I move into the neighborhood, minding my business, trying to spiritually align my chakras with my…read morenew ZIP code... and the lifelong homie pops by and goes, "Holy moly, my mechanic is right around the corner."
I thought he meant "around the corner" like... metaphorically. Spiritually. Philosophically.
NOPE.
Homie meant literally. As in, if I sneeze too hard, I might accidentally tumble into their parking lot. That kind of close.
My old lifelong mechanics packed-up shop in November (RIP to fallen heroes), and I didn't even get my last-minute, "Hey, can you listen to this weird noise real quick?" visit in before they vanished forever. And look... I'm the kind of person who rides the car hard, then panics when it's been too long because cars need maintenance, and maintenance needs money, and I need BOTH those things to keep existing in this world.
So I roll up for an introductory oil change, fully knowing my little green micro machine was running on the automotive equivalent of vibes and stale air. I meet Aaron at the front desk... kind, compassionate, chill, and somehow able to listen to my mechanical confessions without judgment. I hear you don't always get that at auto shops. I instantly felt safe, which is wild.
I also hear Frank is The Man™. Didn't get to meet him this time, but if he's anything like Aaron, I know he's out there doing God's greasy work.
Oil change pricing? Reasonable. Standard. Didn't make me consider pawning anything sentimental. They told me to come back anytime I needed something... and the way I drive? Oh, I might need to.
AND THEN... the plot twist of the century.
For the first time in the history of me owning this vehicle, I've never assigned a gender to my car. This one was just The Green Machine. Gender-fluid. Mysterious. Vibing. UNTIL Aaron casually said, "Yeah, she's chugging along."
Excuse me? SHE?
Was I unaware my green machine is actually a badass chick?
Apparently, yes.
Thank you, Aaron, for revealing the truth about my car's identity. I didn't name her... SHE arrived named.
Anyway, I'm officially hooked. This is my new place. I'm gonna dig out the old mechanic list and bring my newly-discovered automotive queen back for whatever tender love and wrench-based interventions she needs.
5/5. New neighborhood unlocked. Stress reduced. Mechanic found by divine homie intervention. My car has a gender now. What a day.