My dad was a mechanic at a small shop in a small town in the early 1950s. One day, two women pulled in with a poorly running car.

Woman #1: “We’ve stopped at two different shops, and both of them told us we need a complete overhaul.”

Woman #2: “We can’t wait. Our husbands are on leave from the military and we’re on our way to meet them. It’s a two-hour trip. Is there anything that can be done to keep the car running?”

Dad had diagnosed the problem as they pulled in. The car was still running as he opened the hood and put the spark plug wire back on. The engine leveled out and was running perfectly.

When Dad refused payment, they put a five-dollar bill (a huge tip back then) on the counter, thanked him profusely, and left.

My car was having an odd issue. It ended up being a major component in the transmission. FORTUNATELY, it was still under warranty, so the dealership and main company paid for it all. It took them four days to get the part in and my car fixed, and I had a loaner the whole time, all fully covered.

They get done, I go in and get my car, I start pulling out of the parking lot… and I immediately swing back around to the service area.

Me: “Heyyyy.”

Service Desk: “Oh, hi! I’m sorry, was something forgotten?”

Me: “I was wondering if I could talk with whoever worked on my car real quick? There’s an issue.”

Fortunately, said fellow IS available, and he comes out.

Mechanic: “What’s the issue, sir?”

Me: “Well, did you take the car for a test drive at all, even around the parking lot?”

Mechanic: “Of course, why?”

Me: “When it’s idling, it’s fine, but the second I put my foot on the gas at all, there’s a horrible rattling or grinding sound.”

The mechanic gives me a look like he doesn’t believe me and is just humoring me as we head to the car. I hop in, turn the car on, and rev the engine, and there’s the noise. His eyes go huge. We pop open the hood and, at his request, I rev it a few more times.

Mechanic: “Oh, God. Turn it off! I found it!”

Me: *Doing so* “What happened?!”

About three seconds later, he closes my hood, hand held up with something shiny in it.

Mechanic: “Someone who was in charge of putting the covers back on left the magnetic head of the torque wrench on a nut.”

Me: “Man, I’m glad I didn’t have my music up yet so I could hear that! If that had fallen off in the middle of the road, I’d have had a heart attack.”

Mechanic: “You should be good now. If anything else makes a weird noise, let us know.”

I thanked him and drove home, still with the radio off. Thankfully, no more noises — yet!

I went to a national chain muffler shop and was quoted $500 to replace everything from the catalytic converter back. It all had to go. I decided to get a second opinion at an independent exhaust place.

Mechanic: “It’s just a hole in your muffler. Figure $20 for the muffler and another $10 for labor.”

Me: “Really? [National Chain] said the pipes and both mufflers need to be replaced and quoted me $500.”

Mechanic: *Laughs* “Come with me.”

He took me into the shop where my car was still on the lift and pointed out how shiny the exhaust was compared to the rest of the bottom of the car, which was rusty.

Mechanic: “You have galvanized exhaust pipes; they’ll last longer than the car. If that guy said you had to replace your pipes, it’s because he wanted them.”

I am installing a car battery. He turns to his eight-year-old son and says:

Customer: “See, son, this is why you go to college: so you don’t have to work jobs like this.”

The son starts giggling at me and smiling smugly. Normally, I would ignore ignorant comments like this (it happens more often than you think), but my own son of a similar age is doing his homework in the corner of the shop and has heard everything.

Me: “See, son, this is why you never be a jerk and assume someone is uneducated while they’re in college and only a few months away from getting their doctorate in physical therapy.”

Customer: *Sputtering* “But… you’re a mechanic! Why?”

Me: “Because my son and I like to eat.”

He was silent for the rest of my time on his car. I hope his son doesn’t turn into a brat.

Years ago (in the 1980s), I was the only mechanic in a one-bay shop at a corner gas station. One day, I had one car inside and was working on a car behind it, so I was busy. A man walked up.

Customer: “My car has a low tire.”

I put down what I was doing and checked the air real quick.

Me: “If you want me to check it for a leak, you could leave it for a while and come back in a couple of hours.”

Customer: “I’m in a big hurry! I have somewhere very important to be! I’ll make it worth your while.”

So, I jacked up one corner of the car and removed, fixed, and replaced the tire while he watched. I charged him $5, and the “make it worth your while” part was apparently forgotten by Mr. Important.

Two days later, I got a call from Mr. Important.

Customer: “My car won’t start. What did you do to it?”

Starting the conversation with this wording and a huge attitude does not induce sympathy or motivation in me.

Me: “Does the tire still have air in it, and is it still attached to the car?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “That is what I did.”