I took my car into the shop the other day, and the auto mechanic asked me to sign a form so he could do the work. The form had what the problem probably was (handwritten by the mechanic), and I stopped to read the fine print.
And I asked a few questions about the fine print. Basically, people don't want you to read the fine print. Do it anyway. Read it sometimes. It will cause you to ball up, cry and not get your car fixed.
Basically the fine print says that the estimate may be more expensive due to unforeseen events, that if they screw something up, you have to pay them to fix it, and if they fix something and you end up careening into a busload of nuns returning from sabbatical, they are not responsible for the malfunctions they caused. Well, I signed it anyway, partly because I am Catholic, and the nuns I know would not sue a good Catholic girl, and partly because I needed to get my car fixed.
When I was in college, I learned about cars. There was some free weekend classes at the university (tip: call it "the Uni" and people will think you went to college in Europe) where they trained mostly young women about how to take care of cars. I learned how to change the oil, gap the spark plugs, and do various other things that I have since forgotten. The one thing I could not do was change a tire.
Not many of us could change a tire – the tires are a bit on the heavy side, and I could not convince myself that using the jack would not result in my poking a whole into the frame of the car. Anyway, I remember one woman in the class joking that her legs could get the tire changed. And you know, I have had two flat tires on the road and both times they were changed by men stopping to help me in my moment of need. And I did not even need a short skirt – men in Georgia are extremely helpful and chivalrous.
That sort of pisses me off, though, is that I learned how to work on cars – at least how they work, and then they started to put computer chips in cars. Now I know crap about cars.
My point is not that I once knew a little bit about cars – seriously, all I wanted to know was how to make sure the auto mechanic was not taking advantage of me. My point is that sometimes you just have to trust. Read the fine print. Know you are signing your rights away, but do that anyway. Just trust sometimes. In spite of the fine print.
Indifference is the Opposite of Love
1 day ago