Waiting, Waiting ...and Waiting Some More

We live in an instant gratification society. Nobody likes to wait. Even waiting for microwave popcorn has people raising their blood pressure. Why can't we have it right now?

Thus here I am, waiting in the auto dealership for work to be done on my car. Everybody that owns a vehicle has gone through this. Something goes wrong with the car and you are at the mercy of the auto technician (no more mechanics, they are technicians now) and you must wait in his shop for your only mode of transportation to emerge from his sticky and oily fingertips.

Some shops have actually made waiting more pleasurable. New dealerships have comfortable lounges with a flat screen television, doughnuts and coffee free of charge, a place for the kids to play and a place where you can actually work. These places tend to frighten me though, because it looks like I may be waiting a long time for my car.

In the old days, auto shops didn't think about their customers, except how much they could pay when and if the fixing was done. If they had chairs, they were greasy as though they were used to house the mechanics after working hours. A black and white television set, able to achieve only 1 grainy channel if you could see it on a 6 inch screen was provided for the comfort of the customer. Vending machines with items dating from World War II would be found in the corner. A clock, probably from oil company told you just how long your sentence was to date, but gave absolutely no relief as to the length of time left waiting. Conversation with the lady at the front desk offered no relief, as she was usually bullet shaped, leather skinned, and talked like the bass in a barbershop quartet that was perpetually out of tune. That was, of course, if you could get her to say anything to you but a disgruntled grunt.

The mechanics weren't much better talkers, but they sure knew how to take a break. Seemed like every five minutes they were lighting up a cigarette and pouring a cup of coffee into a cup that hadn't been washed since the fall of the Roman Empire. If you asked them to hurry up and get to your car, they pointed you to a very small sign that asked you to not wait in the garage, but in the customer lounge. Odd, since the customer's lounge was located in the garage.

But times have changed. I am living proof of it. I have been able to sit down with my laptop in a comfortable chair and use a table to write this article. I have had a doughnut and cup of coffee, free of charge. There is soothing music being played in the background, and several members of the staff have dropped by to say hello. There is even a shuttle service if I feel like leaving for a few hours. I expect a technician to bring me a piece of paper generated from a computer diagnostic device telling me exactly what, if anything needs to be fixed or replaced.

Yes, it's very comfortable here. But where the hell is my car?