Plastic

Last Friday I took my car in for an oil change. Once they were done they had me come back...to show me the bottom of my car...(because everything under there makes sense to me of course). So I got to see the underbelly of Betty (my car). At first it was cool, like something forbidden. Like a child sneaking downstairs to steal jelly beans from the drawer where her mom hides them (and she thinks her children don't know). But then I felt as if I was violating Betty by looking at her innards (it also felt unnatural to have Betty 8ft in the air). I mean, Betty and I don't have that kind of relationship. The only reason I would pop the hood would be because smoke was pouring out and on movies I've seen people pop the hood because smoke is pouring out, or maybe to make it look like I had a problem so the hot guy in a white t-shirt and jeans would come over and help me. And the only reason I would look at her underbelly is because the guy who changed my oil told me to.

Anyway, I asked them about the Smack noise - remember? - they looked around, doing their mechanic-y thing, and they told me it was plastic. Seriously. Plastic. Then, they showed me where it was. And, by golly, the plastic by the tire on the right side was scuffed and ripped! They said they couldn't fix it (the whole front bumper would have to be replaced), so I'll just have to deal. Which I totally can!

Now, I write this letter of apology to the three mechanics who told me it was plastic that was making the noise and I didn't' believe them.

Dear mechanics who told me that funny noise was plastic and I didn't believe you:

I apologize for not believing you. But for my sake, you told me that you'd fixed it...when really you hadn't. That's why I didn't think it was plastic, and that was why, when I got home, I told my family mean things about you behind your back. And for that I apologize too.

Sincerely,

Liv

And this letter is for the people who showed me Betty's underbelly

Dear Midas:

Thank you for letting me check Betty's underbelly. Was it because I have short hair and look like boy that you took me seriously? Thank you for showing me the plastic thingy that really was making the noise. Now I won't call you a liar. Also, thank you for not adjusting my seat when you drove my car into the shop. I really appreciate getting into the car and being able to reach the peddles (Because even though I am slightly on the shorter side of height, they always seem to find the person who is at least 7'3" and has to pull my review mirror off because it doesn't go high enough for them to see out the back window, to drive my car)

Sincerely,

Liv