Man time

After being in a house full of women for the past month, I think I had started to forget how much I've missed having some "man" time.

For a while now, my van has been running sluggish, and for those of you who live on a tight budget, you know how gut-wrenching car problems can be.  As long as it starts, and generally moves in a forward direction, it can be easy to keep playing "kick-the-can-down-the-road", afraid that whoever looks at your car is going to run away screaming, then pull up a contract promising them your first borne just to get your vehicle right again.

Thanks to a referral from my girlfriends aunt to her ex, I was able to get my van looked at on the cheap.  After a quick test drive, he was able to locate the problem -- a clogged fuel filter -- and got it taken care of the same day.  And let me tell you, it's nice to have that elephant off my back.  But I digress.

Prior to doing what I do now, I worked as a service adviser for a Honda dealership.  I'm sure I'll have more tales to tell about that later, but for now I'll just say that it was like working inside of a giant set of air-conditioned testicles.  The guys that worked there were men's men, and as much as I hated working there, I think I've missed, more than I realized, having the opportunity roll my sleeves up, get dirty, and cuss like a sailor.  Perhaps it's a primal urge that all of us men folk have, but whatever the case, having a small taste of that environment again felt good.

As I write this, my hands still smell of oil and gasoline, a little reminder that sometimes it's good to follow the call of the wild and have a little man time.

Cody Hobbs