It is Friday once again. I think we survived that whole Spring Forward time thing. Isn’t it just as fun as a root canal to get kids to adjust to an hour earlier bedtime?

Wednesday my left rear brake light went out.

I love my married girl friends solutions to life’s problems, “Come over, have snack, drink wine and we’ll fix your light together.” I really thought this meant “come over and my husband will fix it while we drink wine.”

I arrive as this friend opens her front door with a screwdriver in one hand and a cigarette in another.

Apparently there is no wine yet because we need to focus.  She leads me off the porch to the rear of my truck. Within 2 minutes we have the rear light cover off and have pulled the blown bulb out. If you ask why it took two of us to do this – it is the same reason why we women go to the bathroom in pairs.

Where is her husband?

Away we go in her little motorcar to the auto parts store with said bulb in my make up bag. I feel this triumphant pride as I stand waiting at the counter – as if I am achieving some senior level male honor because I am a female doing this. The one thing about auto part stores is there just isn’t much for princesses to window shop while waiting.

We proceed to do what all us women do when forced to wait in an auto store – glance at car fresheners and steering wheel covers.

Finally it is my turn and I proudly hand over the bulb – after almost handing him my red lipstick. Quite proudly, I rattle off the year, make and model of my truck, because I have always heard guys hate it when we don’t know that. Right – like you men know exactly how many kitchen plates you have. I have 10 thank you.

The guy looks at the bulb, and looks at me rather funny. I expect him to open some book and look up a part number, then start skimming shelves in back for just the right part. No, he walks from behind the counter, out into the store to a light bulb section, leans over, matches the bulb by sight and hands me a new bulb packet.

Ummmm I could have done that – if they were positioned near the car fresheners and steering wheel covers

I walk over to my friend who is now commenting on the type of man that would go with the car fresheners. OK this is what boredom and no shoe department can do to some of us.

Like Vanna White, she proceeds with -

Here you have the pine tree for that outdoor-I-like-to-camp guy or is he the let’s-save-the-earth-and-live-on-sex guy. Over here you have the new car smell for salesman-guy, who likes to pretend everything is newer than it is. Or the religious one here for either recovering-addict-guy or driving-his-mom’s-car-while-still-living-at-home guy.

I started thinking that maybe I could have saved myself a lot of dating troubles if I had just looked at a mans car freshener. It might have said so much about him.

Like that robot in Lost In Space yelling Danger Danger.

But what would my dream mans scent be? Ocean-breeze-let’s-go-to-Carmel guy? First-Class-Round-trip-Hawaii guy? Levis-wind in-hair-no-shirt guy? As-you-wish-dear-smells-like-soap-with-dark-brown- eyes-bedroom-look guy?

We have to get out of this place.

I replace the light with great success.  This was such hard work we really needed to go in her house, sit down and drink some good wine.  It’s at this point in the story when her husband finally makes his appearance by entering her kitchen saying, “Well where have you ladies been?”

Oh he’s definitely Whew-I-brilliantly-managed-to-steer-clear-of-having-to-do-that! car freshener scent guy.

Until next time -

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

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