I have absolutely no idea why some guys love spending their summer weekends lying underneath their cars.
As someone with a rational fear of getting run over, I can think of few worse places to be than under a vehicle.
I’m not entirely convinced guys know what they are doing. Some spend so many weekends tinkering about, I’ve seen entire housing estates being built quicker than they can fix their motors.
Basically, if it’s going to take you longer than six weeks to fix your car, you’re better off getting another one. That’s the rule I apply for relationships.
My total DIY skills amount to being able to change a fuse so I’m pretty sure if a car’s headlight blew, I could successfully replace the fuse before dusk. Anything else and I’d be rubbish.
But there are many deluded guys who think because they built a Roadster from Meccano, they can fix a car.
I’ve seen so many guys lift a bonnet and, to impress their woman, pull out the dipstick and put it back, top up an anti-freeze bottle and unscrew and screw up the window washer bottle. That’s not mechanics, that’s just touching things. It would be more impressive to adjust the wing mirror.
Recently, my toilet wouldn’t flush properly. I lifted the cistern lid and saw a chain and lots of plastic fittings. I manly touched everything and then thought I have absolutely no idea how any of this stuff works, I’d best call a plumber. At no point did I cross myself and say: “Hey, I’ll give this a go!”
The plumber arrived and 45 minutes later it was fixed and working better than ever before. Job done.
But guys never like admitting to failure and rarely call a mechanic to fix the car so they can enjoy it throughout the summer and would rather spend endless weekends laying on hot tarmac under their car to escape the wife and kids.
Yeah, that’s probably why they do it. The scamps!
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