Today I accompanied my friend to the mechanic to get her car tuned up and somehow ended up on a strange adventure that culminated with our mechanic revealing to us that he was a victim of date rape.
It all started with a broken fuel filter clip: a tiny plastic clip that does something I don’t understand. Her mechanic explained to us that without this piece, he wouldn’t be able to put her fuel filter back, which would render her car un-drivable. Then he explained to us that even though this piece looks like it costs 1 Ugandan penny to make, it was the rarest and most difficult piece to get a hold of for her specific car.
We went with it; “Get that clip at all cost,” we told him, never knowing it would lead him to a life of crime or that it would result in my friend now driving a car with hot parts.
Regardless of how we got that part, the clip was in hand, and our mechanic was driving the getaway car.
I’m not sure if it was his guilt, but he slowly started to break down and open up to us about what led him to become the strangest mechanic on earth. We learned about engineering car parts. We learned about imaginary Flux Capacitors. But mostly, we learned that his nickname was Romeo.
When we asked him how he got the name, he told us that it was because he was raped by a psychotic stripper on his birthday. She wasn’t actually a stripper, but she worked at a strip club – and she raped our mechanic. (You know who you are. Stop raping mechanics!)
My friend finally got her car out of the shop, and I was pretty sure I’d never be able to ride with her without thinking of her stolen parts or the fact that our mechanic was date raped.
Weirdest trip to the mechanic ever!
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