Saturday, May 29, 2010

Hey the broken things in my life

I finished the psych assignment, and had time to bring the lawnmower to a repair shop for servicing. I just wanted the blades sharpened but the guy at the service bay seemed highly suspicious of me. First of all, I hadn't cleaned off the mower which was, granted, sort of an oversight. But they repair lawnmowers, right, so why should they be offended by a lawnmower having grass on it? He looked incensed.

He took it outside and shot it with an air compressor, grumbling.

Then he asked me what I wanted. I explained I just wanted the blades sharpened and a tune up. He asked me, sharply, what was wrong with the mower. I said nothing. There is nothing wrong with it. He looked incredulous.

Then he told me there was oil on the outside of the mower. That wasn't much of a mystery. Last week when I mowed I remember opening that oil thing to see if there was oil inside. And there was. And then I forgot to close it properly so while I mowed, oil spilled out. But the mechanic was looking at me so angrily by this point that I was afraid to tell him so, so I just shrugged. He said, When was the last time you used this mower?

Meekly, I said, Last weekend.

He shook his head at me. Obviously I was lying. He waved the dipstick at me and said, It's running without oil? I must have been trying to pull a fast one. Drop off my broken mower, sue him for breaking it, something like that. He was on to me.

I didn't know what to say. He added some oil. And some gasoline (because I hadn't filled it after it ran out last week). He glowered at me, and then pulled the starter. And it started just fine.

He turned it off. He said, It works, in a very accusing way. It works without oil in it.

I didn't know what to say. I felt like a criminal. Finally I said, Can I go to jail for this? and he scared me by laughing abruptly, and then stopping just as abruptly.

He gave me an invoice and told me I could pick up my mower in "a week to seven days" which I thought was extremely strange but I said nothing else and went home. I miss my lawnmower.




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4 comments:

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Holy shit. I hope you got a receipt. That guy is not right. When you pick it up in a week to seven days, wear your brass knuckles.

mischief said...

Weird, huh? I'm having pangs kind of like when I have to leave a dog at the vet's office. I hope he's gentle with the mower... kind of feels like a family member.

Spindrift said...

I have read this post now countless times and every time it makes me smile. When is the book coming out? 'The lawnmower diaries'. I remember that book like water for chocolate when she relates everything in life back to food. You could relate it to your garden. There is so much drama in this otherwise mundane transaction. There is edginess, silliness, innocence, suspense. You’re nobody’s fool when it comes to your lawnmower. You had all the right answers. The lawnmower man also sounds like he’s nobody’s fool. He sounds like he knows his mowers. I think your mower is in good hands. ‘…laughing abruptly, and then stopping just as abruptly’ (I loved this line:)

mischief said...

A book about my adventures in lawnmowing? I like it; a perfect combination of manual labour and cognitive reflection. It's like I was born to do this. You're brilliant... now find me a publisher!

I cannot tell you how many times I have left my wallet somewhere in my life, literally more than 50. And I've only lost it permanently three times, which means at least 47 seven other times people found me and brought it back. It's a miracle every time, ever single time, and now you are part of that wonder.