The other day, I was sleeping (YES, sleeping) with a friend at one of the sorority houses. Suddenly we heard some wailin’ and shit goin on outside, so we go to check it out. As we’re going out, there’s a group of girls standing around the back of a car, and one of them is crying. I’m like “Fuck, I’m gonna have to clean up a puppy or something.” So we go over to see what’s wrong. Well, luckily, it’s not a puppy. She ran over a log on the curb and dented her rim, very badly. She’s got no idea how to change a tire, either. So I opened her trunk, pulled out the spare, grabbed the jack and wrench, and changed it for her.
Same night, we were having a scavenger hunt type thing for the sororities. I was at the third station (we were doing a restart because some of the girls cheated and left early), when I saw a gaggle o’ females standing around staring at an opened hood. I went over and asked if they needed help, and the driver says “My car is steaming, and smells bad, and that thing (points to overflow tank) is empty. Is that bad?” I had someone go fetch some water, we filled the burp tank back up, and I told her to have her dad or a mechanic or someone look at it to find out why it was consuming coolant, and reminded her that a $2000 engine isn’t worth the $200 prize money. Apparently it is, since they went ahead to win.
I’m too darn nice. Something about a pretty girl having car trouble that makes me helpful…
I once had a girl ask me if she needed to take her car in to the mechanic because the overdrive light was on. I was sorely tempted to say, “yeah. Just tell them to change your muffler fluid.” But, being the nice guy that I am, I just told her to push the little button back in.
[sub]Note: this post is in no way meant to imply male superiority and should not be taken as such. Don’t hurt me.[/sub]
I just think it’s nice and warming that even when guys know the game inside out, we still fall for the helpless girlie routine. Kind of like the rhythms of nature passing through another generation. And they play us so, so well - you have to smile…………
My ex-husband decided to save us a few bucks and change the oil in our new truck. He was back in the house after an hour, but the oil had not been used. Turns out he couldn’t find the oil filter.
It’s not all women that can’t do anything, it’s just the ones like me that grew up with so many big strong men around. I’ve realized that if you even start to do something wrong a guy will try to do it for you if it’s a “guy thing” I don’t think I’ve ever gotten near enough to a car to even figure out what’s what’s sigh oh well, when I’m older and I go crying to my daddy and brothers to “fix it” they’ll know whose fault it is.
Of course, then there’s Janie, who got mad because when I rode with her and her car made a noise, I told her it was just the heat shield loose.
The mechanic didn’t agree, and replaced her entire exhaust, cat-back. He also replaced her brake pads and rotors. Charged her $1000.
She got mad because I said it was just her heat shield rattling. Guess what, Janie? It WAS just your heat shield. You got taken.
If you’d have let me borrow it like I asked, I’d have fixed the heat shield, AND did the brake job (if it was truly needed) for less than $100.
Okay, so sometimes chicks DON’T listen to me.
Sandyr: Then there was the guy my dad sold our old Dodge Caravan to. His van had a good engine and a bad transmission, our van had a bad engine and a new transmission.
He called a week later and complained that “it won’t shift out of first!” Turns out when the genius bought tranny fluid, he just grabbed the cheapest stuff on the shelf. It was Type F. Duhhhhh…
I always love the guys who stop to “help” when I have car trouble and am in the middle of fixing it. They’re so cute, standing there trying to look like they know what the hell they’re doing! I try to be patient with them because it’s nice for them to stop in the first place, but I think it’s silly that men feel like they’re supposed know how to fix a car just because they’re men.
My daughters already know they won’t be allowed to get drivers’ licenses until they can show me they know how to change tires and do basic car repairs.
My best instance of this, proof for all disbelivers that I am a real blonde, was a memorable evening right after I got my licence. I was driving a car that leaked oil like you woudl not believe and wanted to go to a party. My parents did not want me to go, at all. Being the always right teen that I was I flew out and went anyway. Or tried to go. I got about half way there when I saw funny lights, freaked out, pulled off the highway and called my parents from a gas station. I had forgotten my purse, spare oil, credit card, cell phone, etc and they were giving me the “I’m sure you can handle it” speech as smugly as they could manage.
And the mechanic at the gas station was on his smoke break. I must have looked both cute and in enough distress that he took pity on me. Fixed everything. I got to the party only fashionably late. My parents were horrified. They try to teach me a lesson that life can suck and I learn that people take care of cute blonds.
snort
I taught my husband how to change a flat.
He just wanted to call AAA. Like I wanted to wait half an hour for them to send a truck when I could change it myself in under ten minutes. :rolleyes:
And yes, my sister and my best friend (who is a mechanic, btw) scoff at me, as they go out and change their own oil, rotate their tires, and fix, um, stuff. My attitude towards car repair is to let Mr. Granola know if any weird lights come on.
My sister is the one that once had four guys sitting around, drinking beer and watching her change her tire. She said that men never come to her rescue. She was with me one day when I had a flat, and within 20 seconds of discovering it, a guy ran over and offered to change it for me.
I think that it’s my way of looking completely helpless. I once spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to open the hood of my van, so you can see why the look comes naturally.
It sorta boggles my mind how few people know how to change a tire, and I’m talking ALL PEOPLE, not just women. Once I apologised to my boss for being late for work. “Sorry, I had a flat tire.” I was only 5 minutes late and he said “How’d you get here?” I said “Well, I changed the tire, you know?” He said “No!” He made me spend like 20 minutes telling him all about how to change a tire, lol. My mom wouldn’t let me drive the family car until I knew how to change a tire. Seriously…I’d never stand around waiting for someone to fix something for me, even if I DIDN’T know how to fix it.
Y’know, it really is a matter of what you’re comfortable with. If I had been responsible for changing my own tires since I was 16, I’d probably be able to do it without even thinking. Then again, had my SO been helping with the cooking since he was 16, he’d be able to grocery shop, dice an onion, and throw together pancakes without even thinking. As it is, sending him to the grocery store with a list of more than 10 items is as painful and difficult for him to do as changing a tire is to me. This doesn’t mean that he is unable to grocery shop, or that I’m unable to change a tire. We can both do 'em, but they’re hard and painful for us and if we can get the other one to do it, we will. I’m all for “women’s work” and “men’s work” simply because I’ve already figured out all the “women’s work” stuff, and if I have to learn the “men’s work” that means I’m stuck doing them both - a fate I will willingly use the “cute and helpless” route to avoid.
So Chicks can’t do nothing, which means they must be able to do something. But then you say you were kidding. So you actually do mean they can’t do anything.
I learned long ago that the most important tool a car can have is a cute blonde in the passenger seat. One time my car died on a busy piece of road that was in a little valley. There was no way I was going to push it up either hill, so I was waiting to see if anybody would stop and help after about 20 minutes I gave up and started to call for a tow truck. Then a couple of cute girls I know happened to drive by, and got out to see if they could help. They were standing talking there for about 2 minutes when suddenly a rush of about 5 guys came over to help push. Finally a towtruck came by and took my car back to the girl’s house for free.
I can change my oil (after the blue car I can do just about anything with oil…grr.) and a tire. I had to be able to do that much before my parents would let me get my license. I can also put together a steering pump, but that is another story.
I keep an eye on my air pressure in the tires, and the oil /tran fluid levels, but thats as much as I am ‘allowed’ to do.
My father and brother do all my mechanic work, and they prefer to do all my mechanic work if you know what I mean.
So, to change a flat, I call the shop, :
“Dad, tire’s flat.”
“d’ya drive on it?”
“Pfft! NO!”
“I’ll send one of the boys over.”
Works for me.
One time, I was backing out out of the daycare driveway, and the busted muffler fell off. I had to shimmy under the car on the ground and untie the hanger wound & tied & wound around it holding it up - hard work with no tools!
Generally I leave the car stuff to the pros… but I do my own man stuff at home. (hold the vibrator jokes please)
