Aversions
Last week, all on the same short drive up a few miles of route 24, I mused about what we would replace it with if the truck got totaled, having thus jinxed myself was almost sideswiped by a little red truck exactly parallel to me trying to occupy the same spatial coordinates as our little black truck, saved only by my alertness, fast reaction, and free space in the lane on the other side of me, and I came to a realization I’d never thought of quite this way before.
Mechanics and garages are to me as medical people are to Deb.
Which is to say, I hate dealing with them, assume they have a high probability of not knowing or caring what they are doing, assume that they will probably not help much, and go so far as to behave with aversion to them. It’s nothing new; I just never pulled out that behavior and examined it before, nor had I compared it to similar behavior by anyone else.
It makes it all the harder to take a car to be looked at when I have such low expectations and such dread about the outcome. I have no idea where this came from, either. I grew up around a body shop and spent my share of time in shop environments. If anything, it ought to be the other way around.
I have an aversion to mechanics and garages because I know I’ve seen the dollar signs just start rolling in the eye sockets the second I walk through the door.
Posted by on 03/09 at 03:38 PM
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