They’re All Pigs

So I went outside today and worked on the car. The pain was excruciating, and it was hell trying to do things with my left hand that I’d normally do with my right. The hardest part was the transmission cooler line issue because I had to reach so far down to put the thing together. I  mean, it would have been a rough task for someone who didn’t have a messed up arm just because of the location. You’d have to see it to understand, but it’s a job that’s best left for someone who has a lift. I went in from over the top of the vehicle not underneath it, so it was like acrobatics. 

I changed the idle air control thing, and that wasn’t it. It was just a guess. I didn’t expect much from it. The old one was crusty as hell anyway, and it was only $35 and no trouble to change. 

The men in town never fail to come and spew their commentary. They always come like bats out of hell, and they say the dumbest ish to me. The one who stopped by today kept repeating the word “shaft” (and making messed up gestures) numerous times while he told me that maybe I should look up the crankshaft sensor. “You know SHAFT, it’s a SHAFT, like give you the SHAFT”.


OMG, I am SO much more interested in working on my car than I will EVER be about anyone’s shaft. Effing gross! Yeah, shaft. They all have one. Big deal. Who cares?

If this is what women in auto mechanics have to go through, then I’m glad I’m not a “professional mechanic” who works for shop. I’d probably get fired for letting a sharp tool slip out of my hand or something. 

I mean, why can’t they just talk to me like I’m a person? Why can’t they just talk to me about my car like I’m just another human being who is trying to work on my car? Why do they have to say something sexual or call me baby or some ish? You don’t know how bad I want to write the S word right now. I get tired of that ish.

Shaft? How ’bout I give him “the shaft” right upside his head?

When men talk to me like that or act like that it makes me angry because I don’t deserve it. I don’t present myself as a hooker or skank or whatever, so why make stupid comments? 

And then people wonder why some women end up truly hating men. I don’t, but they don’t make it easy for me not to, that’s for sure. Like I said before, I don’t know what kind of women the people in this town are used to, but I’m not into all that. I just do my writing, work on my car, pray to my Master, and try to survive from day to day. 

Oh, and I’m not going to sell my car to anyone. If it sits here surging and having idling issues for the next few years, that’s fine. I doubt it, though. I’ll figure it out eventually, and in the meantime, I’m learning how to change new things. I’m getting to know the car even better. I don’t see a problem with keeping my car even if it’s not back on the road just yet. 

3 thoughts on “They’re All Pigs”

  1. Thank you so much. It seems like it’s healing a little bit every day. It still hurts, and I can still feel the tear, but better.

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