Working inside a repair
shop is kind of a sanctuary. The customers are supposed to stay away from us
because they distract you from what you’re doing and wind up wasting time that
should be spent fixing cars. Take the example of what happens when a
good-looking chick comes into the shop to retrieve something she forgot from her
car.
All work comes to a stand still.
And even after she leaves, the guys are still milling around extolling the
virtues of her good looks. And in the warmer weather we get to keep the doors
open, and hopefully catch a glimpse of some babe walking by on her way to
retrieve her car.
But during the cold months, the
shop is kept shut up in order to keep the heat inside. This is when you have to
mess around with those exhaust hoses. What a hassle they are. I sometimes forget
to remove the hose and get yelled at from the other guys when I go to back up
off my rack.
I also get yelled at when I run an
engine and forget to put a hose on the car. “Hey, put a hose on it!” Nowadays,
the exhaust smell isn’t so bad as it used to be when they didn’t have catalytic
converters. But sometimes a cat can stink pretty bad too. That awful sulfur
smell.
Anyway, as I was saying, working
inside a shop is kind of like a recluse. With all the doors closed, you’re
sheltered from what is going on in the world around you. If it weren’t for the
blaring boob box radio on my workbench, I’d have no idea of what is going on in
the world outside.
Then there was that day the door
crashed in. It was just before lunchtime, and my thoughts were on food as I was
working in a shop in Muncie, Indiana. It was very cold outside on that February
day and all the doors were closed.
Suddenly there was this horrific
crashing noise. My first thought was that a car had accelerated off a lift and
surged forward. As I looked up I saw this white car coming right through the
wall and into the work bays.
A car had come crashing into the
work bays from the outside, going at such a high speed that it crashed through
the wall between the roll-up doors and had pinned my buddy against the back
wall.
When I realized what was happening, I heard my buddy calling for help and
started yelling “Someone
call 911!”
Fortunately for my buddy there was
a lot of equipment and toolboxes that took up most of the impact of the car and
my buddy wasn’t killed. But he did suffer from a couple of broken ribs. Now THAT
was a miracle!
Now that it’s over and the cops
told us what had happened, I am amazed at the whole thing. It was like a movie
in slow motion. Apparently, the lady was coming from a beauty salon where she
had just gotten a manicure.
The cops said that she had lost
control of her car while trying to avoid slamming into another car. She planted
her foot firmly on the gas pedal instead of the brakes and kept it there the
whole time—even after she rammed through the wall.
Anyway, according to the cops, she
ran up over a curb, sped across our parking lot and picked up a lot of speed
before slamming into the shop. She hit the building with such force that her car
– which was NOT a Toyota – kept on going right into the service bays.
Even after the car was stopped by
the toolboxes, one wheel kept spinning and the tire started smoking. The shop
security camera was running and captured a good shot of her car slamming in
through the wall. Then she gets out of the car and is looking around, apparently
dazed from the crash and airbag going off in her face.
I’m amazed the roof didn’t come
crashing down when she took out that wall. The cops wanted to evacuate the shop
and condemn the building, but the owner talked them out of it.
By the way, I think that all
senior drivers should have to pass some kind of panic reaction exam just to see
if they are hitting on all cylinders. It seems like more and more older drivers
don’t know how to react in an emergency situation. They lose it when they panic
and wind up hitting the gas pedal instead of the brake.
