Old Blue and Jiffy Lube

Just last week, I bought the minivan off the faja, who seemed all too pleased to be rid of it and eagerly bought a used Audi A6 in its place. Twenty years of driving minivans I guess explains his giddiness. I however, after another summer of ninja-waitressing, am pleased as punch to find myself the owner of any car, no matter how it affects my non-existent street cred. Old Blue is actually the car I first learned to drive in, and he has a lovely dent to prove it, so I suppose it is for the best that we continue our journey together. However, after the original excitement and a week of random bursts of “The car is MINE bitches!” I started Old Blue up last night to discover a strange noise. Further investigation revealed that the old gent was in need of an oil change.
With a distinct feeling that the honeymoon was over, I made my merry way over to Jiffy Lube this morning, fully expecting to encounter some of the notorious mechanic scammers. I mean, I’m a twenty year old woman who doesn’t pass for eighteen most days, with little knowledge of cars and no stern-looking father at my side. I could practically feel the sharks circling already. I knew what I wanted however, and what Old Blue needed, and had prepared my coldest “Don’t fuck with me” glare for what I thought was the inevitable pushy mechanic telling me I needed to get the serpentine belt replaced ASAP.
I was pleasantly surprised when the man at Jiffy Lube cordially and professionally mentioned that my brake light was out (I knew and had already forgotten about that!) and that with the oil change, he would change my air filter and rotate the tires for an extra $23. Neither of these things were unexpected–they were actually needed–and he was not at all pushy. He also suggested a better type of oil for my vehicle. Before you get all suspicious, I have to mention that this oil didn’t cost a penny more than the oil we had been using. I paid $72 for a change of oil, air filter, a fixed brake light and a tire rotation, all of which was done in about fifteen minutes–or in a jiffy, if you will. Moreover, the employees there were extremely polite, friendly and helpful. When I paid, I turned to find an employee already at the door holding it open for me, and another opening my car door, wishing me a good weekend with a rather genuine smile. So in short, while I sigh at having to cough up $72 so early into my car-owning experience, I do believe that Old Blue, Jiffy Lube and I are at the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


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