Oil Changing - Maya

She couldn't put it off any longer.  It had been 6,000 miles since the last oil change, and she knew they always said she should come back after 3,000. She just hated going.  Either she had to go to the place where she was supposed to pull her car onto the racks, the guy motioning this way, then that way, and she was always terrified that she'd drive right into the pit.  Or, she could go to the place where they'd put it up on the rack, but she'd have to wait in the overheated, depressing waiting room with only two-year-old  People magazines for company.  Either way, they'd try to sell her this filter or that fluid, in addition to her oil change, and she didn't know a friggin' thing about cars.  So, she either wound up feeling ripped off or thinking she was making a terrible mistake and dooming her car to eventual decomposition.  Or whatever cars did when you didn't treat them properly. 

She chose the overheated waiting room.  Better that than the fear of lurching into the pit.  She hadn't been thumbing through old news about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie for more than two minutes when the guy appeared with some thingy in his hand.

"See your air filter here?" he started in.  "You can see all the dirt accumulated.  Want us to change it for you?"

She looked up at him, her eyes dull.  She considered saying, "How stupid do you think I am?" but she realized that however stupid he thought would be correct.

"Sure," she said.  He left.  "Go ahead and fleece me," she continued speaking to herself.  "God, I've got to learn something about cars."  

She always told herself that. She never did it.  And really, she knew she never would.

Prompt:  Oil Changing, 3/7/09