Car troubles

This week marks the occasion of my parents' birthdays. Both of them...the same day. In our family this means two things: cute gifts for the parentals and car tags are due, all four of them. Tuesday Kristen and I awake to an alarming email form my dad saying that we must go get an admissions test done on Red (my truck) and Hatch (her car). We got a follow up phone call from our mother who confirmed that we could not wait and had to have it done within the day. So, unwillingly enough, Kristen and I made plans to meet for a quick lunch and to then head over to the local Jiffy Lube to have the tests done and be home in time for some studying.

Everything about our afternoon plan had gone accordingly until we got to the Jiffy. Kristen, being the diligent leader of the two, allowed me to follow so that I could see what I was supposed to do. We pulled up and one guy walked over to Hatch and another moseyed his way over to Red. "I just need an admissions test done," I said. He looked around, confused kind of, and then I told her, "Yeah, she needs one,too." "Okay, yeah. Just pull up here," he said and pointed me over behind Hatch. He continued to approach Red and I knew this was the part I was simply unprepared for. "Pop your hood." Now, I've heard these three words before, many times actually. In particular, the last time someone told me to "pop my hood" was the last admissions test I got.

This is the part where I flip my hair; imagine it. Even though I've had to do this before, the hood thing is not something I come across everyday; I needed a little refresher. So I do the hair flip that seems to happen when I am confused, embarrassed, or am thinking. This instance happened to involve all three. Luckily I look in the right direction of the hood-popper-button and glance at this guy confused. Now he's young so I try to level with him. "This one" is all I ask. He laughs at me.  "No," he says and gives me some direction, "Learn something new..." "...Everyday I guess," I say finishing his sentence. Whew, now that that part was over, I could just go inside, sit, and wait. Wrong.

Smart guy, we'll call him Duke...because he just seems like a Duke. So Duke then asks me as I am walking away, "You know how to open it?" Open what? Duke, I am done here. She's all yours for a little while. Open what? I really don't know what he is talking about so I just say "nope" and keep walking. He then insists I try actually opening the hood of Red. This, to me, was a little rude. I mean, did I ask Duke if he knew what's this fall's must have item? Did I ask Duke here if he knew how to make his own exfoliating cream or that Victoria Secrets was having a sale? No. Let's stick to what we know Duke, and not go trying to teach each others.

I was wearing white, I got my hands dirty, and I was hot all because Duke wanted to flirt a little, make me feel stupid and call it customer service. Hell, I did not want to learn. Apparently, though, there is a latch. Ya don't say Duke? How else did it keep from flying up into the windshield when I was driving? Oh Duke, you're so smart. Yeah. This is the last time I flip my hair without real cause. Sometimes, it's just not worth it.