Man Mechanic
By Sharon Kayne
It occurred to me recently that I understand men about as well as I understand cars. I have a vague idea how they operate, and I know the basics to keep them going: give them fuel and every once in a while grease ‘em up. But when they stall out on me, I have no idea how to get them going again.
I do know this: what is fundamentally true about cars is fundamentally true about men. Namely that you never appreciate how useful they are until you’re stuck without one; and even if you do have one, they’re not worth a damn if they’re not working properly.
At least when your car dumps you by the side of the road you can call a tow truck. But what do you do when your guy quits on you in the middle of a perfectly good relationship? Why isn’t there a Triple-A for broken-down love? A repair shop for romance? A mechanic for men? The next time I’m in a relationship I’d like to be able to call an expert when the man in question retreats into a stupor of silence, says his ex-girlfriend’s name in bed, or burps for sport.
Me: “I brought my boyfriend in for a tune-up.”
Man Mechanic: “What seems to be the problem?”
Me: “He doesn’t want to start up cold.”
Man Mechanic: “That it?”
Me: “He’s makin’ weird noises.”
Man Mechanic: “Like what?”
Me: “It starts out like a putter, but then it goes into a low rumble. Oh yeah, and his gearshift knob is loose.”
Man Mechanic: “Sounds like he’s idling rough. Probably his timing’s off. How long have you two been together?”
Me: “A couple of months.”
Man Mechanic: “Uh, huh. That’s typical after the two-month break-in. Try a higher-octane gas. And get yourself a new set of seat covers.”
Of course, if women had Man Mechanics our men would want specialists – a Girl Guru perhaps – to check us over once in a while, too.
Guy: “She’s been leaking around the eyes again, and I can’t figure out why. Do you think she’s got bad seals?”
Girl Guru: “Could be. You might want to consider a ring job.”
Guy: “Shit. I can’t afford that.”
Maybe if I had a Man Mechanic I’d have gotten more mileage out of my past relationships. And maybe I wouldn’t have always been so eager to trade in what I had for a better model. Or maybe not. But at least I wouldn’t have felt so helpless and frustrated when things weren’t running smoothly, and I didn’t know why.
I’ve had my share of frustration with cars, too. But at least with cars you have three realistic options: either get one with a manufacturer’s warranty, get an owner’s manual and be prepared to get your hands dirty, or forgo commitment altogether and just lease one. If I had those options with men I suppose I’d be less inclined to need a Man Mechanic. But unfortunately, I’ve never known a man to come with an owner’s manual. And who’s gonna give you a warranty on a man? Besides his mother?
That only leaves the leasing option and that seems a little cold. I guess I should either learn to live with the mystery or learn to live without men.
I think I’ll learn to live with the mystery.