The Feng-Shui Garage

I always admire people who are knowledgeable about things I know nothing about, like the workings of a car. Many is the times I have stood there with the dipstick in my gloved hands trying to solve the mystery as to why we actually need oil in cars.( I wear gloves to protect my hands from the grease dripping onto my fingers.)

And that's why I am so glad I found a well qualified Mechanic who knows exactly what to do when I hear a funny squeak,a soft screech or when I hear absolutely nothing at all, which freaks me out as well. Fred's skin color is a beautiful ebony and his teeth dazzling white. He is a reassuring 6+ft tall and he was born in Zimbabwe he told me. Fred is not his real name of course, his own name is unpronounceable for me.

Going to Fred's Garage is a bit like going to the UN. He employs junior mechanics from every possible country it seems. The languages spoken at Fred's are Chinese, English, Taiwanese, Vietnamese and possibly some Swedish and Russian. He answers his employees in their own native tongues when there is a problem and then easily switches over to English again.

When I had a car-problem in the past I went to a different Garage. There you were greeted not by the owner, but by complete chaos. Tools everywhere, oil on the concrete. You had to wait for hours and even then it was not certain if they could find the time between coffee breaks to help you.

In Fred's Garage it's a completely different story. The place looks like an operating-theater in a hospital. Cleanliness reigns here. Almost no tools in sight, everything used is immediately brought back to the right place again. Fred himself awaits you with his white welcoming smile, his overalls an advertisement for washing powder.. By now he has a complete file on my family, hobbies,pets etc. which he quickly consults before I arrive. I have never seen him actually doing that of course, but he cannot possibly remember all my ramblings from over the past 2 years.And so you arrive at his Feng-Shui-inspired, tranquil Valhalla of all Mechanical Problems. The moment I enter these doors, I feel myself calm down. All my problems fade away. Because Fred will take care of my car.

"What's the problem" he asks me in his soft voice after inquiring after my family. "It's a funny noise" I say. Fred looks at me with his big brown eyes, and before I know it, my car is high up in the air and Fred is looking with a torch. "Where does it come from?" he says. "Well I can hear it everywhere" I reply. Fred looks at me with a puzzled face. Then he pushes the button and the cars comes down again, landing on its tires.

He then leans against the counter and looks at the sparkling clean concrete floor for some inspiration. "Yes, I can hear something too" he says. Then the smile gets wider and wider. "I know what it is". he says. "Is it dangerous, expensive to repair, do I have to buy a whole new car?" I ask fearfully. Fred laughs now, his face glowing with pure merriment."No, you've left the radio on, but not tuned in a radio station. That's where that funny noise comes from." smiles Fred.

After checking my oil and water and the like, Fred waives me goodbye. Until next time, when I "hear" something again.