The Creep Factor

It may not be fancy, but it’s a great family car.

When it comes to cars, I’m as boring as it gets. I just want a car that I’m comfortable driving, that’s reliable and safe. I dutifully take it in for scheduled maintenance and otherwise pay very little attention to it.

I prefer to take it to the dealership for service because I know the folks there have to answer to a higher power if customers are unhappy with the service, but also because the waiting area and the restroom are clean, unlike some of the quickie oil change places that rate highly on the ick scale of hygiene. Plus, there are usually relatively current magazines lying on the table, even if one of them is entitled Gardens & Guns (I did not make that up) and most of the others are golf-related.

Still, you can never tell who else will wander in to have his or her car serviced, no matter where you go.  This morning, as I sat in the dealership’s service department waiting area, along with a decidedly geriatric crowd, watching an episode of Leave it to Beaver (because no one can figure out how to work the remote for the satellite TV), an old geezer guy came in – red face, rheumy eyes, tufts of hair bulging out of his ears. He said good morning to a guy sitting to the right, then looked at me, gestured to the chair beside me and said, “Good morning, beautiful. Mind if I sit here? I promise not to molest you.”


He took a seat and offered me a section of his newspaper. I declined. He turned to the obituaries and remarked that the oldest dead person listed was 103.

OMG, what is taking them so long to change the oil in my car? I’ve already watched a full episode of Leave it to Beaver and two thirds of an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Must escape…

As luck would have it, geezer guy couldn’t sit still for very long and left to wander around the dealership, no doubt spreading creepiness along the way. He may be a harmless old guy who thinks he’s amusing, but my instincts tell me he’s probably on some sex offender registry somewhere. Ick.

43 thoughts on “The Creep Factor

  1. Some people just lack social skills. That’s all it might be, nothing more. People blurt the most ridiculous stuff to try to get a laugh. I hate car dealership waiting areas. They are so depressing. I’d rather hang out in the service area and watch oil drip into the pan.

  2. Some guys just don’t quite get it, at any age. But I have to admit being called “beautiful” makes my day as long as it’s not accompanied by a leer and a grope. If I was in your place, I’d probably have laughed… and offered to break his fingers if he made a move. 🙂

  3. I’ve been looking for the latest issue of Gardens & Guns! Maybe I get my oil changed at the wrong place? Oh wait, no. Ick! That encounter might be enough to convince me I could learn to change my own oil.

  4. He probably thought he was making your day with his creepy gallantry. Sounds like Mr. Geezer’s Charm-o-Meter was on the blink again.

    On a related note, my “new” car (ie The only car I ever bought new, which is only 3 years old and I’m still paying for it) starting making a noise yesterday whenever I hit the brakes. I am SO not amused. I’m with you – I just want the damn thing to work the way it’s supposed to when I turn the key!

  5. A couple of years ago I started getting my oil changed at an all female place called “Ms. Lube” in Toronto. The millionaire tycoon who owned the “Mr. Lube” franchise was giving them all kinds of legal hassles so I figured in a show of female solidarity I would patron the place. It was great…until the day I got hit on by another woman while there. Whether it is male or female these kind of folks still creep me out.

    On another note, I should mention that I gave you the “7 X 7 Link Award” in my last post. Have fun.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s