I took my car to get serviced this morning. It’d been bucking like a baby bronco when I’d accelerate after turning a corner.
Art, one of the mechanics (who didn’t look like an Art), asked what was wrong, then asked me to ride with him around the block so he could see the problem himself.
As I did so I thought about how we teach children not to get in cars with strangers….Fortunately, I’ve been to this shop before and trusted them.
“So, does your husband also drive this car?” he asked.
“So, he drives another car?”
“I don’t know what car he drives,” I answered. “I haven’t met him yet.”