I’m gonna talk about something that I never thought I’d ever see on this blog ever: cars.
I don’t know anything about cars. I never pay attention to them and can’t tell one model from another. It used to frustrate some people when they’ll ask me what kind of car so-and-so drives and I’d just shrug and say, “I dunno, it’s just a normal car.” And by normal car I mean, it’s not a van. That’s it.
What I don’t understand is why guys get so obsessed with cars. My manager, for example, gets so excited whenever he and some random customers who just happened to drop by the place discuss car parts and products; they can spend hours just blabbing on and on about them as though they’re very close friends when they actually just met. Meanwhile our newest sales guy, who happens to be a drift racer, is always spending his breaks looking around at all the cars in various states of disrepair in our workshop. You should see his face whenever he does so – the fascinated expression rivals that of a child who has been unleashed in a toy store. The pinnacle of his car addiction was proven when I pointed out a guy and his pretty wife as they hopped out of their car, saying, “She’s pretty, right?” to which his response was: “The car is nice.”
Being the only girl in a workplace full of car-holic guys is not so swell. As if it’s not bad enough that they all speak Mandarin which I don’t understand, sometimes even though they’re already speaking in English, I still don’t understand because it’s guy gossip – car talk. Our place reeks of so much testosterone that sometimes I’m afraid it’s contagious.
Maybe it is. I still don’t give a damn about alternators or radiators or front disc pads, but now I’m always turning to look at beautiful cars. My favorites are Ferraris because they seem to be shinier than other cars. Take a look at these two I found in our shop, for example. Who wouldn’t fall in love with these beauties?
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