Extra Service

Elton found himself a new best friend after busting one of his tyres recently. A quick call to the Automobile Association sent this mechanic with a really odd first name over to his place. Well, it wasn't so much odd as so mundane a name that you wouldn't really name someone or yourself that. Boy. What kind of a name is Boy? Like how many sisters must you have that your parents have either no clue what male names sound like or figure they'd just differentiate you by gender? More importantly, does that mean you have a sister named Girl?

But, strange name aside, Boy the mechanic seems to be excellent at his job. After the brief encounter they had over the tyre, Elton decided to pay him a visit at his workshop to get more of his car fixed.

So all in all, it set him back $900 to get everything fixed. His bumper, the leaking pipes, the engine, the works. Even added two fog lights in just in case all the street lights should ever go out and we have to drive by the illumination of his lights. Now, I feel a need to stress that last bit was at Elton's insistence.

What was impressive was how Boy took the time to explain, in detail, exactly what needed to be changed, why, what were the different grades of the parts available and whether it's worth it to skimp or better to splurge. He also gave a timeline for how long the whole thing would take (a grand total of two days), called to confirm on the day itself if the car would be finished, and gave Elton back a cleaner car than what he brought in. Even the floor mats were vacuumed. A black oil mark some other mechanic left inside the car was gone, though its more stubborn companions remained, somewhat diminished.

This is quite a drastic departure from the one other mechanic Elton dealt with, who was, sadly, his old classmate. Communication was limited at best, and there was no such detailed explanation. It was pretty much a don't-ask-don't-tell sort of situation. Good, in that you won't spend money on anything other than why you brought it in for. Bad, in that you have no clue what condition your car is really in. The car's been to that workshop a number of times already, but some chronic problems (like all three pipes were leaking, there was no freon left, which was why the aircon was not cold, the rubber on the windshield wipers had hardened, and the tyre pressures were all too low) were never identified, much less fixed. The worst part was not knowing when the car would be fixed, and it often took the better part of a week and much calling before you'd even find out what was going on.

So now the car seems to be purring along better now, and Elton was so incredibly pleased with his very detailed, itemized receipt that he showed it to me with all the pride of a kid with a glowing report card. Pretty obvious he'll be going back to Boy's workshop in the future. (I'm not paid for this, but hey, I'll take the good karma for it - Boy's workshop is at the Caltex Station along Lorong Chuan, just outside Serangoon Gardens. In case you're looking for a good mechanic.)

On the topic of service, my parents bemuse me. They're both sales people; Dad sells mattresses, Mom sells furniture. So you'd expect them to understand what annoys sales people on commission the most; making one guy do all the work, explaining all the details to you, then going somewhere else to buy the thing. Unfortunately, that seems like what they plan to do.

We're thinking of trading in our old massage chair. It's so old, it's of the generation where the rollers had fixed paths, and you'd better be 5'7" with broad shoulders or it'll hit you in all the wrong spots. Nowadays, all the chairs have adjustable rollers so it doesn't matter what size you are. We've been thinking of that since the new chairs came out, but trading in wasn't an option previously.

Now though, it's possible, and we can get a pretty good price for our old chair. The new one is still going to set us back by a few thousand dollars, but it's not so bad. Out of the generosity of my heart, I said I'd pay for the chair.

Since Dad bought the chair originally, we had to clear it with him because replacing anything he bought without getting permission first is just asking for a week, maybe two, of him glowering around the house. Good news was, he agreed. Bad news, he insisted on checking with the vendor at his workplace if they could give a better price.

It turns out we can get it for 10 percent less at his workplace, but only if we pay with a certain credit card that I don't own. Well, I used to, but I canceled it a long while back (what? I wasn't using it).

So now, the thing that bothers me the most is, I gave that sales person my word that if we were to get the chair, I'd get it from him. It's just not fair that he took all the time to explain everything to us and we just up and give his commission to some other dude. I know it doesn't benefit me in the least, but I've also lived in a household where my parents come home and complain about customers who do exactly that (sales people talk; don't think they don't know your sneaky ways). This guy may be just some stranger doing his job, but he's someone's son, probably someone's husband.

My hesitation to get the chair from Dad's workplace made Mom think I have no intention of changing the chair, transforming her into this gruff barking person. Whenever she's annoyed, it sounds like she's trying to imitate a big dog barking when she talks, with this bass, hollow quality to her short, antagonistic sentences.

Thing is, I want to change the chair. And I have no problems with paying $400 more (it's on zero percent installment anyway, the extra bump is not that painful when spread out like that), not that I'll be able to get the discount anyway, since I don't have the credit card. The issue is, a) it's stupid saying I'll pay for the chair, then get Dad to sign it on his card, paying him back subsequently, and b) I'm breaking my promise.

I don't like to go back on my word. I don't give it lightly, and I can be prone to cutting it very close (basically, if I start phrasing things very carefully, you know I'm just trying to weasel out of it), but once I do promise something I try my damndest to go through with it. I blame it on reading too many fairy tales, since the fey don't lie, although they'll bend the truth till it's a hair from breaking. But it makes me feel like a good person, and I'll try to keep it that way.

Which is why I'm quite concerned for Kym at the moment. Our new careers aren't exactly working out, but she seems to be having a more difficult time than I at adjusting to the new culture. Her industry is a lot more technical than mine with so much to learn. (Truly, it's not difficult being a journalist, but if you can't write, you can't write.) It doesn't help that there's one particularly nasty person in her workplace. On the bright side, they're on the same rank, so she doesn't have to take orders from the bitch or anything. Then again, you don't have to be outranked by a bitch to be terrorised by her.

Over speakerphone, she told Elton and I about her problems at work, and asked if we could think of an alternate career she'd be better at. As much as I'd like to give her an answer, the truth is I have no clue either. I mean, I supposedly got my dream job, but I'm still dreading going to work everyday. I'm still thinking about things in a temporary fashion.

But because I said I would think on it, I'm thinking on it. And I'm hoping somehow I can at least point out a job she would like to do and be good at doing.

It's a good thing I don't have that many friends, otherwise I'll never get anything done.