The other week when my tail light needed replacing, I took the lazy option and paid extra to have it fitted for me. Now this is the sort of thing that I would criticise of others, a bit like the McDonald’s Drive Thru which seems to be the height of laziness.
The time I had my tail light fitted was a damp, cold weekday evening, and the fitter was a strapping young man who seemed to know mid-sized hatchbacks like the back of his hand. He fitted it single handedly (although he had two hands and used them both, but there is sadly no such phrase as ‘ double handedly’), whilst also holding a torch. I stood for a few moments and he invited me to leave him to it and retreat to the relative warmth and sanctuary of my car. I politely declined, saying that I wanted to watch and learn.
Today, however, when I needed to replace an indicator, the strapping young man was nowhere to be seen. The cashier said “she’ll be with you in just a minute”, which did not make me feel particularly macho. When a young girl of certainly less than 21 years emerged and referred to me as ‘Sir’, I wondered if I could hide behind a facade of being a posh man with no time for such frivolity. Then I looked down at my scruffy trainers and baggy green corduroy and began to feel sufficiently low enough to walk under a bench with a top hat. I sat in the car listening to Chelsea vs Norwich on 5 Live whilst a girl fitted a bulb for me.
I’m now off to McDonald’s Drive Thru to get a burger for the journey home.