Few people say that they are embarking on a new life when they walk into a oil change garage for their first day of work, but that was what I was telling myself. I came through the door, following the boss whose bald head was at such a low level that I could clearly see the expanse of the work space. The garage was Fanci-Lube, one of the many quick oil change places that appeared like weeds in suburban strip malls outside all major cities. It was a certain sign of the times that Americans were too busy, or unable to change their own oil anymore. My father would just roll his eyes at such extravagance. But this was now my new vocation. My dream of finding a job in the art world of New York City was dying before my eyes, and drowning in a pail of dirty engine oil. <great symbolism The smell of the place was that sharp hint of new metallic parts, it stung my eyes, or was it something else causing my eyes to smart? <comma splice <yet a strong descriptive opening!!
“Hey Mitch!” the boss called. “Come here!”
Over near one of the cars, a middle aged mechanic looked up, his white face still fresh in this early morning. “Mitch come over here. We got a new guy.”
Mitch ambled out from behind the behind, his gray jump suit stained in multiple places with the grime of a season or two at the Fanci-Lube.
“Luke, this is Mitch Hagaful. You will shadow him for a couple of days until you get your feet wet,” the boss said crisply.<note how the comma goes b/f the qmark <you can identify and fix the rest
I reached out and shook Mitch's hand. “Nice to meet you” I said.
Mitch grumbled the same, and waited for the boss to move off through the doors.
“So where do you come from kid” Mitch said as he led the way into the garage.
It was a tough question, because I really was raised in upstate NY, but since I had spent the last 6 years in New York city, I felt like I belonged there better. But to fit in better I decided to stick with the country persona.
“I am from Green County, New York, just outside Albany”
Mitch made no response, just nodded as we headed across the smooth concrete of the garage floor.
“So I assume you went through the technician training course. So I don't have to teach you the basics of an oil change, or tire work right?” Mitch started as we reached the far side.
“Right” I said. I wanted to add something funny or more personal but I could tell that Mitch was a no nonsense kind of worker at this time in the morning.
Mitch looked over my shoulder and shouted “Yo Ferris, come over here for a minute”
Another middle aged white guy came from across the garage, carrying with him the quart of oil he had been taking down from a shelf.
Mitch pointed a finger at me and said “This is Luke. Today's his first day.”
Ferris smiled broadly and stuck out his hand and we shook. “Nice to meet you Luke. Welcome to Crappy-Lube, the place dreams come to die.”<funny
Mitch snorted, and put his hand on my shoulder to guide me towards the office door.
The ominous words rang in my head. I wanted to say something, and ask a question, but it wasn't allowed.
“This here is the office, where we do paperwork, and fill out all that good stuff.” Mitch said as he pointed to the huge desk. The desk was piled high with paper, although it was in neat stacks. The yellow and pink sheets of carbon copy pads poked out through several of the piles. “The paperwork is probably the part you will struggle with the most. I know I did. But we don't need to worry about that now. Let's tour the rest of the place.”
We moved off along the wall, and past the large viewing window which looked into the customer waiting room. There were already a couple of people standing around in there, maybe dropping their cars, or even picking them up at this hour. I paused for a moment to watch a well dressed businessman take a seat in one of the red upholstered chairs. I should I have studied business, or engineering, and then I could be on the other side of that huge piece of glass. Whoever told me to go to college for my dreams was a fool, because Art History does not pay bills, especially when Emily came along. I caught up with Mitch near the tire spinner. This was where we would remove and replace the tires, balance them on the rims, and spin them for the tests. It was not very complicated, and with a little training I had become fairly competent during my hands on technician course.
“Here's the spinner” Mitch commented dryly. “But I need to warn you, its about 10 years old, and doesn't work all that well. We have tried talking Gordon into a new one, but he says it works fine.”
Mitch reached down, worked the pedal, and then stepped back. The machine continued to spin, rapidly gaining momentum, without any control.
“Why doesn't it stop?” I asked.
“Cause its <read my mind a piece of crap” he answered. A slight smile tugged at his lips like the dream killing world of this garage was really just there for his amusement. I was beginning to see that maybe Mitch was not the wooden character I first took him for.
“So how do you stop it?” I asked.
Mitch leaned over again, fiddled, bounced, and tapped the pedal until at last the machine stopped moving.
Just then Ferris came up behind me, and peered down at the machine.
“The commissioner says you just got to 'wiggle' it a little. Its fine” He broke into that mocking grin again. I looked from one mechanic to the other, trying to get the joke.
“Who is the commissioner?” I finally said.
“Gordon” Mitch said, his expression as neutral as ever.
“Of course” I managed as Mitch led the way to yet another station on the garage tour. Ferris grinned even more stupidly as we moved off and I had to shake my head a little, this place was different than what I expected.<comma splice
The morning went on rapidly, the garage floor filling up with more tech's<no apostrophe and more cars. I shadowed Mitch through 2 oil changes, a tie rod replacement, and a tire rotation. Then we spent about two hours in the office going through the paperwork of it all. Tapping my head with the pen as I tried to memorize the procedures.
In the afternoon Mitch let me take on an oil change on my own as he worked over at the tire spinner. I began to feel some confidence in what I was doing. This regular paycheck would be good for my family, and good for me too. I hadn't had a full time job in about 2 years, so actually seeing some steady money would be worth the toil. When I finished up the change, I came over to the spinner to confer with Mitch. He was working the machine smoothly, letting the tire spin and calibrate, so I didn't disturb him. A minute later he stopped the machine, and popped off the tire, but as he drew it off the machine started spinning again. He cursed it as he turned around, setting the tire to the side and he saw me.
“Well?” he said.
“I finished up, just tightened the screw on the oil pan” I waved my little wrench at him as proof.
Mitch made a sort of “whoop de doo” type of a face, but said “Alright then. Let me finish with the spinner here and I will be over to check it out”
Then something happened that changed my time at Fanci-Lube permanently, and one that would change my life perspective as well.
Mitch turned back towards the spinner, to try and stop it, and I saw that the next tire lay on the ground to his left. I moved over to grab the tire, hoisting it up so that I could help him get it on the machine when it finally stopped. I moved closer to the machine, but the problem was, I was losing my grip on the tire. Mitch was bending over the racing machine, wiggling the pedal, and he didn't see that I was having trouble holding the tire. So I shifted my grip, and it turned out the problem was that the little wrench in my hand was making it hard to hold the edge of the rim. Well, when the wrench dropped from my fingers, I instantly knew that there was going to be a problem. Time slowed down, I heard the wrench clatter against the spinning wheel, heard a sharp ding as the wrench caught in the machine, and then just a millisecond later the louder crack behind me. I knew what had happened before I turned, but I dropped the wheel and spun quickly, hoping it wasn't true. The wrench had been launched like a tiny missile directly into the giant glass window of the customer viewing area. The window, being tempered glass had not shattered, but displayed a huge unsightly spiderweb of cracks. It seemed that the normal sounds of the garage, the tinkering of metal, the hiss of compressors had suddenly gone completely silent. Everyone stared, first at the smashed glass, then to me and Mitch at the spinner, our mouths hanging open as if the dentist were looking at our deepest tooth.
“Damn” I heard Ferris whisper from somewhere behind me.
Gordon the boss came through the door like the survivor of an air raid. He had apparently been talking to a customer in the viewing room at the time, and he crouched as if he was going to need to duck again any second.
“What the hell happened?” he said rather meekly.
“Accident” I said.
Now Gordon approached, rapidly recovering himself from massive surprise, to raging anger.
“Who is responsible for this ...accident” he stammered out, his face now red with the emotion.
I suddenly saw how this was going to end. My first day, my first job, my first chance at actually taking the reigns of my family and being a provider. Gone. One day into the job and its all gone. Perhaps they would only dock my pay to cover the broken window? What would my wife say when I came home and told her that I would be working for free for a couple weeks, or worse, that I was looking for another job?
“It was my fault. I did it” I thought I was saying those words, but then I realized it wasn't me. It was Mitch who had spoken up. I looked back, and saw the ever impassive look on his face. “The old spinner never stopped, and I was trying to get to down when I lost the wrench on it.”
Gordon's eyes narrowed in surprise.
“For god's sake Mitch, how could you be so careless?”<comma splice He whined at him.
“Sorry Gordon, its the spinner, I told you that it was dangerous remember? <CS I am very glad no one was hurt”
Gordon was still seething, but then the words of Mitch's last thought suddenly got through to him.
“What did you say”? He asked, slightly calmer now.
“I said, its a good thing no one was hurt by the faulty equipment. I mean, this is a safety violation and its a good thing we aren't investigating an injury here” Mitch remained impassive, speaking quietly so that only Gordon and I could hear him.
Gordon slowly began nodding.
“Okay, new kid. See what you can do to clean up that window mess” Gordon said and he hoofed it quickly back to the store side. Possibly to call the glass company, or the insurance company maybe, but unlikely.
I looked back to Mitch. He had saved me. My job, my dream of being a provider, all of it. But for what? He didn't even know me, yet he had taken it all on himself. Would Gordon dock his pay? I couldn't let that happen.
“Listen Mitch, I need to tell Gordon what happened. I can't let you take that”
“What do you mean Luke? I think thats exactly what happened, going to tell Gordon something different would only confuse the poor sucker.” he answered.
“But Mitch, you don't need to do that. I dropped the wrench, I can take the consequences”<CS
Suddenly, Mitch smiled. The first one I had seen all day from him.
“The consequence Luke my boy, is that we are going to get a new spinner. So don't go and lose your job when we just made this crap hole better for you”
I looked at him, the triumphant smile on his lips, and then I glanced around at the other mechanics and techs grouped in a semi circle about us.
They all looked so different. Different skin colors, different names, different builds and different expressions. But yet, somehow they were all the same. They had ended up here somehow, because few chose to be there. Here was a group of guys who made the most out of what they had, most out of what they were given. Why? Because they had to? Not really, it was deeper than that. Something in the soul of man that drives him to provide, even if it had to come from the hand of a disreputable lube stop.
My eyes traveled back to Mitch, and I stuck out my hand again.
He looked confused for a moment and then he reached out and shook it.
“I'm Luke” I said “Thanks for having me at Crappy Lube, where my dreams came to die”
Mitch smiled again.
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