The Green caldron - University Library

14
The Green Caldron
Women have a very difficult time trying to keep up with a car. In the
first place, they don't understand "what makes it go." When a woman
arrives at a garage, she has been carefully coached by some male. She knows
exactly what to say. She will tell the mechanic exactly what is wrong with
the differential, even if she has no idea what the differential does or v/here
it is. Telling the vehicle's troubles to the mechanic is the easy part. When
the mechanic tells the woman what he will do to remedy the situation, the
poor woman's troubles begin.
The mechanic rattles off a long series of technical terms. These terms
must be memorized, so that the woman may report back to her husband or
father. The woman will try very hard to get it all straight, but terms like
generator and distributor baffle her. She will generally remember only two
things the mechanic told her—how long the car will be in the shop, and how
much it will cost.
Woe unto the unfortunate female who must report to a garage without
coaching. The most vivid description that can be conjured up by this poor
lady is, "It goes click-cHck-click." She must pretend not to notice the me-
chanic's supercilious grin.
Another unfortunate difficulty that plagues females with cars is peculiar
to young women. A car which is transporting five or six teen-age girls
suddenly develops a remarkable noise. The young women don't know what
to do, but they are dreadfully worried about Daddy's car. So they turn in to
the nearest service station. They describe the remarkable noise to the at-
tendant. The attendant asks to hear the engine. But as soon as the car is
started, the noise disappears. The attendant smiles a knowing grin. Since
he can hear no unusual sounds, he assumes that the girls came in for a brief
flirtation. The young women now have two worries—what to do about the
attendant and what to do about the non-existent noise. There is one pleasant
feature of an old, cantankerous automobile. It makes friends wherever it
goes. It is surrounded by comments of "They don't make 'em like that any
more." Of course they don't ; there is a good reason. Everyone can't spend
five or six hours a week pacing an oil-spattered garage floor. However, after
the rather rough breaking-in period, any woman can learn to enjoy running
a car. (She will never quite be able to keep up with it.) If hers is a big old car,
she has my deepest sympathies. She also has this word of advice
Learn to enjoy garages. Mechanics are really pleasant people, if you
don't worry about the sneers they will give you. Also, garages are educa-
tional. You can learn all kinds of fascinating things about cars. If you learn
your lessons well, you will be able to astound the man in your life with
some statement like, "Honey, I think those valve-lifters are awfully noisy."
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