Friday, June 4, 2010
Little Lady, I Ain't....
I work for a mechanic shop. This is a field of men, mostly men are mechanics. I am the shuttle driver, the ambulance pick-up girl, and the parts gopher... So therefore most days I do parts pick-ups at the small town next door's automotive supply store. I had to go there today.
When I got there, there stood six farmers having no clue what they wanted. Asking stupid questions and how to tips on things that the counter guys just stared blankly back at them. I was patient. I stood there, leaning against a rack of touch paints & high quality car waxes waiting my turn. I'm looking amazingly girly (in my opinion) which in and of itself is a bit out of my comfort zone. But for some reason this morning, wearing my knee length red skirt with decorative beading and a white tee shirt seemed comfy. Imagine if you will a cute blonde girl in a skirt (i.e. me) surrounded by farmers and grease monkey's in a parts store...
While I was waiting, shaking my head softly at the most recent retard question asked by young farmer guy- the one I wanted to just scream at for his stupidity... I felt the back of my skirt lifting up. I turned to see and older guy, must have been in his early fifties. He smiled and I shit you not, he had three good teeth in the front. "Oh, sorry 'bout that." he muttered, lowering the offending item that had created my skirt levitation. In his greasey, god only know what smeared hands he held a brake line section, probably four feet long. For those that don't know- most vehicle brake lines are long sections of metal, some straight but some have bends to them depending on the model vehicle they are made for. That's what this guy has in his hands.
I feigned a smile and turned back around, noticing that the newest farmer to walk in apparently decided that 6 month old, stored in a sewer pit, cow shit was a fitting cologne for the day! About a minute passed before I felt my skirt lifting up again. I cleared my throat and turned back to look at the offending dumbass behind me.
"Sir, if you must pick it up to look at it, would you mind terribly to step back a couple feet, it keeps lifting up my skirt..."
He smiled... No... he leered with his nasty crusty three teeth winking at me... I shook my head and turned back around, anxisouly tapping my right foot on the floor- wishing I was somewhere else. Another minute passed, and my skirt was again mysteriously levitating. This time I waited to say something until it was obvious that he wasn't so much inspecting his merchandise as trying to get a peek at my bloomers! When the hem lifted high enough, I spun around, glaring at him.
"Sir- I swear to god if you don't knock it the hell off, I will personally shove that thing so far up your crank not only will you have an extended pisser, you will also have a brand new muffler. Go stand in the next aisle, now!"
"Gees, little lady, can't a guy have a little fun???"
" Fun? I'm sorry but you're not realy my type... You're to old, too short, and apparently allergic to soap, water, and toothpaste... Now walk away..."
It was about that ime that the surrounding men were supressing laughter, and one of the guys working the counter called me up to get the parts order. I signed for the air filter I was there to get and left, cursing under my breath the entire way out of the parts store and across the parking lot... Little lady??? Seriously???
Little Lady, I Ain't....
I work for a mechanic shop. This is a field of men, mostly men are mechanics. I am the shuttle driver, the ambulance pick-up girl, and the parts gopher... So therefore most days I do parts pick-ups at the small town next door's automotive supply store. I had to go there today.
When I got there, there stood six farmers having no clue what they wanted. Asking stupid questions and how to tips on things that the counter guys just stared blankly back at them. I was patient. I stood there, leaning against a rack of touch paints & high quality car waxes waiting my turn. I'm looking amazingly girly (in my opinion) which in and of itself is a bit out of my comfort zone. But for some reason this morning, wearing my knee length red skirt with decorative beading and a white tee shirt seemed comfy. Imagine if you will a cute blonde girl in a skirt (i.e. me) surrounded by farmers and grease monkey's in a parts store...
While I was waiting, shaking my head softly at the most recent retard question asked by young farmer guy- the one I wanted to just scream at for his stupidity... I felt the back of my skirt lifting up. I turned to see and older guy, must have been in his early fifties. He smiled and I shit you not, he had three good teeth in the front. "Oh, sorry 'bout that." he muttered, lowering the offending item that had created my skirt levitation. In his greasey, god only know what smeared hands he held a brake line section, probably four feet long. For those that don't know- most vehicle brake lines are long sections of metal, some straight but some have bends to them depending on the model vehicle they are made for. That's what this guy has in his hands.
I feigned a smile and turned back around, noticing that the newest farmer to walk in apparently decided that 6 month old, stored in a sewer pit, cow shit was a fitting cologne for the day! About a minute passed before I felt my skirt lifting up again. I cleared my throat and turned back to look at the offending dumbass behind me.
"Sir, if you must pick it up to look at it, would you mind terribly to step back a couple feet, it keeps lifting up my skirt..."
He smiled... No... he leered with his nasty crusty three teeth winking at me... I shook my head and turned back around, anxisouly tapping my right foot on the floor- wishing I was somewhere else. Another minute passed, and my skirt was again mysteriously levitating. This time I waited to say something until it was obvious that he wasn't so much inspecting his merchandise as trying to get a peek at my bloomers! When the hem lifted high enough, I spun around, glaring at him.
"Sir- I swear to god if you don't knock it the hell off, I will personally shove that thing so far up your crank not only will you have an extended pisser, you will also have a brand new muffler. Go stand in the next aisle, now!"
"Gees, little lady, can't a guy have a little fun???"
" Fun? I'm sorry but you're not realy my type... You're to old, too short, and apparently allergic to soap, water, and toothpaste... Now walk away..."
It was about that ime that the surrounding men were supressing laughter, and one of the guys working the counter called me up to get the parts order. I signed for the air filter I was there to get and left, cursing under my breath the entire way out of the parts store and across the parking lot... Little lady??? Seriously???