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Something, Something, Brightest Bulb…

, , , , , | Working | December 4, 2020

I’m a woman. I bought a new car off the lot a few months ago, and it’s suggested that you bring the car back to the dealership after a few months to get a checkup. Sure, whatever, it’s free. So, as I hand my keys to the man behind the counter at the end of my signing in:

Me: “Oh, and my left high beam is aimed too high. Can I please get it aligned while it’s in?”

Receptionist: “Sure, I’ll show you how to do it right now.”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Receptionist: “Come on; I’ll show you.”

Intrigued, I lead him to my car, where he asks me to unlock the door. I do, and I move to pop the hood, but he reaches in and pushes the headlight switch forward.

Receptionist: “There you go. You push this forward to turn on your high beams.”

Time stops as I blink at him slowly a few times.

Me: “Can I talk to someone else, please?”

Receptionist: “What?”

Me: “Like, anyone else. A manager, maybe.”

I’ve never asked for a higher-up a day in my life and don’t really know what to expect.

The receptionist walks me back and gets a manager. I explain what happened and the manager’s friendly smile falls, and then his mouth drops open.

There are profuse apologies, and I head out with a friend who’s picking me up for brunch to kill the few hours my car is in the shop.

I was greeted and helped by the manager when I returned, and he was careful to shield me from the receptionist.

To this day, I cannot imagine what he heard in my request to suggest that I didn’t know how to put my high beams on.

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