I have been taking pain medicine regularly the past two weeks because of an injury I unfortunately sustained from my adventurous, heroic life. I think it is because of this medicine that I now have the strange urge to just sit in a chair for up to an hour doing nothing but staring and dozing in and out of consciousness.
It was in this state on Saturday that I suddenly pulled myself together and realized I needed to leave and go to Sherman in order to get my car inspected (this was planned in advance, not a further product of the medication). State automobile inspections cost about $25 less there than in Dallas, fyi.
By the time I made it to Sherman, the place I had intended to go was closing for the day. I was only staying in town until Sunday, so I was anxious to find a new place. My mom called a couple of places while I rushed to check my car over, and finally found a place that would stay open long enough. The second problem arose in that we were planning on meeting my grandparents for dinner at 6:30, so we would have to leave Sherman at 5:30. My mom went ahead and bumped that appointment back a half hour.
I finally made it to the auto shop, which was completely filled with people. There were 6 adult costumers and 3 children. I filled out the paperwork knowing that there was no way I would be out of there within the hour. Luckily I had brought my book with me, so I approached one of two empty seats to allow my mind to stray from thinking about the time I didn’t have to spend waiting to thinking about the wondrous late 1700s.
In hindsight, the seat I chose was notably strange. There was one seat on my left occupied by a little girl and then a man on his cell phone in the seat on my right. I thought it was unusual that the girl was sitting alone, but, eager to dig into my book, I sat. Soon the man left to talk outside and I was left with mild curiosity as to whom the little girl belonged.
This is the part of the story where I could easily stray from the truth, which I am very tempted to do. Although that would perhaps make it much more interesting, I am committed to telling this story as honestly as I can, even if its oddness lacks extraordinariness.
After a few minutes, a woman emerged from the restroom and I intuitively knew she had previously occupied the seat I was now in, providing the understandable link between estranged-seat girl and aloof father. I was embarrassed. She refused the stolen seat I offered back to her and simply took the girl outside.
My physical impairments at the moment include the annoying limitation of not being able to turn my head very far, and since I was facing away from the window, I could not see what the reunited family was doing, but I don’t think they came back in at any point.
At almost the same time, another couple left the waiting area with their two young sons, who had previously been attempting to create dirt angels on the floor of the building.
This left me alone with the final couple, who sat modestly in the corner.
A comparatively long time passed before the stillness of the waiting room was disrupted by the man. He asked me what I was reading. I told him and explained a little of what it is about (proud to be caught reading this cool new book about explorers, inventors, and scientific discoverers). The man, however, was simply interested in the way the pages were cut – they have a rough raggedy look on the top.
I was glad for the conversation, although a little disheartened by the content. Nevertheless, we continued to talk about books and how he wants to read more.
Time passed; my car sat in the parking spot ignored by all; and I sat in the waiting room sticking out like a dedicated, fast paced college student in a modest auto repair shop where time stands still (sort of).
Finally, a mechanic came in, and just to tease me, grabbed my keys and a clipboard and opened the door to go outside. Then he stopped, walked back in and addressed the couple sitting in the corner. He started by saying, “You know how I like to tell jokes?...” and my heart sank a little.
To tell the truth, I was not in any rush (remember I was medicated). But I knew my mom and grandparents were eager to go to dinner, and I did not want to be the reason to delay it too much.
The mechanic continued by saying, “There were two blond girls talking to each other about men. One asked the other, ‘What kind of man do you like?’ The other responded, ‘Actually, I am dating a Brazilian.’ The first replied, ‘Wow! Now, how many is that?’”
I couldn’t help but laugh along with the corner couple, which gave the mechanic more confidence as he spouted off several more from his fine collection of Obama jokes and other topics that were not worth remembering.
Then, satisfied that he had humored us, he finally went to check my car. It looked like I would be getting out on time to rush home and then rush an hour away from there to dinner.
It was harder to read. I kept looking up anxious that the inspection would go quickly and that I would pass, when suddenly I saw the mechanic talking to someone else who had walked up to my car. I tried to stick to reading, but looked up again to see my car deserted and the mechanic joker to be across the parking lot talking with someone who had just pulled up.
Minutes ticked by. The friendly owner of the store came in from working on another car and chatted with the other couple as they slowly paid and left. And finally, my car was inspected. I was free, well, at least after I talked some more with the owner who pegged me as a college student from the local college. He told me the story of the shop, how long he’d been there and all the moves he had to make. I could tell he cared about his job and that it brought him a lot of joy. Maybe that’s why the busyness and the business of the place seemed so relaxed.
I will definitely go back.
P.S. I learned a lot from this 2 hour segment of my life, and I hope that this story is more than merely a personal anecdote. Hopefully, there are many things for you to consider.
I will leave you with one:
This encounter leaves me wondering, what would it be like if we had yearly people inspections? Would it be merely biologically oriented, like a medical physical, or would there be other tests (such as those of social skills and patience)? And would any of us pass these people inspections?
I think I met some people that would.
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