I break with many traditions, one being that LGBT+ people cannot drive. Not only am I a good motorist, I’m an avid one. I love my car and love driving.
I hate, however, the maintenance, especially having to deal with mechanics.
In most areas of my life, I can do enough research to ensure that my experience of the scenario is a fair, and effective one. I know enough to ensure that I am not shafted essentially. The world of engines, wheels, electrics, and tyres is not my world.
My front tyres need replacing, and as a responsible motorist, I’m having it done before the MOT so it doesn’t fail. I’m sitting in the waiting room of the tyre place right now. It’s an airless room, with a tv - muted of course - broken coffee machine, and faded posters that have fallen to the floor. It’s a place filled with anxiety as my brain cooks up all the possibilities with what could go wrong with the car, and what lies will be told to me, to make money from me. I’ve had bad experiences in the past, I don’t like to be duped.
Things started well when the technician insisted my car would have a locking wheel nut. I said it doesn’t because I know it doesn’t. He then proceeded to walk me to the car, to ‘explain’ what this was, only for me to repeat that it didn’t have one. When he looked at the wheels and said ‘Oh, this car doesn’t have a locking wheel nut why didn’t you say’, I gave up trying.
Do you see why my faith in humans is so readily tested in the world of cars?
I hate being in this situation - being in the hands of another - not fully in control of the outcome. Perhaps I need someone who is honest to a fault, not a cis man, or perhaps the fitters (on every occasion I’ve ever been) are just having an off day? I shared this thought with Max Siegel, and he came up with this; Business idea: Garage designed to be the opposite of masc spaces, run by trans folks, femmes and cis female allies. Barbie playing in the waiting room, with free matcha lattes. Honestly, this would be the dream.
I can’t be the only one that has so much angst in garage settings.
I’d love to say I could learn how to do all my repairs myself, but I know that’s not my forte whatsoever. It makes me realise just how much control I have over my own life to ensure my mental comfort as best I can. The garage is a rare time for me - out of my depth, out of my comfort zone.
It is a poignant reminder that we absolutely should work on the conditions we are placed under. That stress, angst, and discomfort should be factored into the day-to-day functions of our lives. So that when we are placed in situations that are less than ideal, it’s just a bump in the road that causes no issues, and not a puncture stopping our progress altogether.
The tyre fitting took double the amount of time they said it would, but the job was well done (I think, how can I tell?) and that’s all that matters I suppose? Anyway, I’m driving back to my comfort zone, and I couldn’t be happier…
Comments