I’ve survived deaths of loved ones, chronic fatigue syndrome, and marital breakdown. This one, I can do. Yes I can! One of my headlights is shot. Within minutes, I have a new $12 bulb. I am woman. Hear me roar. Watch me do it. I am fully competent and don’t mind the dirty work. See me in all my glory. That is, watch and hear me cajole a friend into having her husband install the bulb. Am I good, or what? Note: question is rhetorical. No answer necessary. Please do not answer. I said, don’t go there already! After 45 minutes of studying the hybrid’s intricate and miniscule engine parts, he pulls out the broken bulb. Am I good, or what? My friend’s husband says, “They sold you the wrong bulb.”
I go back to exchange it. I can do this. I am, after all, woman. “Sorry ma’am. The bulb you need is out of stock and made in Germany. You can’t buy or order them. They’re priced at $129, but Toyota will sell them for way more than that.” I consider the options: several fix-it tickets, a plane ticket to Germany, breaking the headlight shell and installing a flashlight held up by a small but strong mouse.. One hundred and ninety three bucks later, the bulb sits in my glove compartment. Told you I’m good. I am woman. Hear me roar.
No comments:
Post a Comment