So, … here is some funny math for you. I will not change my oil until I hit the mileage OR the thingy alerts me whichever comes last. Yep, last because the longer I go between oil changes, the more I save. All this despite the girl who in my sophomore speech class did a demonstrative speech on what happens to your car when you don’t change the oil often enough. She even brought in a jar with crude in it. Yuck!!! And in the long run you do more harm than good by not being attentive to your baby. Yep cars have names and can be babies. So say the peoples.
I use synthetic oil which is more expensive because the mister makes me and that’s another reason to delay. I already feel guilty going to a “place” to have someone else change my oil. You see my daddy was a mechanic who did his own maintenance. He taught me to change a tire and the oil before I could take Drivers Ed. But then when I had my first flat, he came to rescue me.
Seems like just yesterday I was barreling down IH 35 South near Fort Sam when I heard Thud! Bump, Bump, Bump! I pulled over and put on my hazard lights. Almost immediately a van with signage for Gary’s pool stops. The driver asked if I needed help. I told him “no … get away from me … you WEIRDO” … because you know kidnapping and such. There was not really any name calling. I was just scared and didn’t want to end up on the evening news.
So, … I walked to some apartments where a lady was sitting outside as kids play. She let me borrow her phone. Thank goodness for long cords because she said “Girl you stay there; you’re NOT going in my house!” I called my dad and then I called B. I went back to wait by the car (which I now know is a no-no) because if another car hits my car, I am a pancake or a girl who could become a pancake.
The Calvary came for me. My dad brought my Uncle M along for the ride because he and my Aunt J were visiting and well why not go see what little Jilly got herself into? About a minute later, B shows up. I had three grown men changing my tire. Can you say princess? Cuz I am.
About a week later, on his way to UTSA, my brother-in-law was in a similar boat. Well … he was in a car, not a boat. His car had a flat tire. My father-in-law told him “tough luck, you’ve got a spare. Change the damn tire” My mother-in-law was so pissed. “you left my baby on the side of the road??!?” Thing is he was not a prince. There’s only room for so much royalty in one family. 🙂
I have no idea why I remember these things. It was 1984 for heavens sake!! I have no idea why I am compelled to share either.
As always, more to come.