Types of Car Guys…
While posting in a Mustang forum the other day, I had a tangential thought that had nothing to do with the forum or what I was posting. It just randomly landed in my brain and had me looking back over my automotive life.

The early years were spent in autoshop. It was there that I intensely learned the types of car guys through the school of hard knocks. Not that I’m grumpy, I’m most certainly not. I love guys and find them fascinating. Hell, I’ve been told I’m “more of a man than most men.” And it has been wondered if I’m a lesbian because I’m not into traditional girl things. Well, if I’m a lesbian, why do I hate chicks so much? Why would I prefer to be around guys and cars? I guess I’m just wired different. Oh well. Such is life. In fact, it keeps my life interesting to say the least.

Although still off my original topic, that brings me to something else I gotta share. One guy say to me, “You must be a dude. You have a dick, don’t you?” Before I could say anything, my ex-boyfriend said, “She doesn’t have a dick. She’s got five. She keeps them in jars as trophies.” Same guy who said I am more of a man than most men. It has been about a decade since then. I wonder if I’ve girlified since then. I still have the jars–err…uh…never mind.

Anyway, back to my topic…

In no particular order, I started thinking about the various car guy types I’d met. From the old guys who’d seen and done it all and really didn’t give a shit anymore. To the young bucks dripping with so much machismo, they slipped in their own puddles.

But it wasn’t always about age. I think it was a confidence thing.

As evidenced by my little Car Guy Types here:

There were a few–maybe two or three–guys per autoshop class who were genuinely excited about having a girl in the class. They wanted to take me under their wing and teach me a thing or two (or three or four) about cars and for that I’m greatly indebted to those few men who for the most part were surprisingly not trying to date me, or if they were, didn’t show it. I did date a couple of these guys because I’m attracted to people I can learn from. And what better way to learn than from someone as passionate as I was about cars? Plus, there’s always the added bonus of working on cars together and cracking jokes about honing my master cylinder.

Next are another favorite of mine… The guys who genuinely didn’t care that I was a girl and treated me like one of the guys. There was the occasional, “You wrench like a girl.” type jokes, but I love ‘em. I loved those guys because they also helped cultivate my deep appreciation for dick-and-fart jokes while teaching me a thing or two or three about cars.

Now we start getting into the other, less fun types…

And there are two subsets of this type. Both hated that there was a girl in the class. She didn’t belong there no matter how smart or how capable or how much she liked cars. She was a girl and should be playing with dolls or something. (Little did they know, at home, I was collecting antique dolls and now I restore them as well as I restore cars.) Anyway, one type I put up with because of the nature of their affliction. The other I simply avoided like the plague because I didn’t need the bullshit.

On my first day in bodyshop class, during break, a guy sat down next to me. I’d been hiding all the way in the back of class. I never know if I’m walking into an ambush, so I just hide until I know who feels what about having a girl in class. Anyway, this guy plunks down next to me and says, “So why are you here?” I reply, “Uh…To learn…” Duh. Why else does a person take a class? He says, “Yeah, sure. You’re just here to pick up guys.” I stifled a pretty hard laugh. I mean, doesn’t every girl pick up guys in autoshop rather than engineering or business, or even music or literature? Sure. And every woman knows mechanic’s hands are always so clean and silky smooth. Uh-huh. Yeah, like a rasp or a cheese grater when sculpting bondo. Niiiice. Like the business end of a cylinder hone. Mhmmm… Oh yeah, now there’s a great exfoliant.

But that set the tone for my in-class relationship with the guy. In essence, I avoided him. Just as I avoided the guys who said, “Isn’t there a kitchen you should be cleaning somewhere?” Bullshit. I suck at cleaning. Always have. Just ask my mom.

So, you have the guys that are just really irritated that there’s a woman in ‘their domain’. They try to sabotage every now and then, but I’ve also found that they are often pretty stupid. Which makes them more pissed off when I get around whatever they put in my way. More bullshit just triggers more avoidance. Who needs the anguish? Besides, success is the best revenge.

And finally, there’s the guys who like the other sub-set are upset that there’s a woman in the class. She doesn’t belong there, but she’s there and he’s gotta deal with it. And by golly, there’s no fuckin’ way she’s gonna score higher on the test or fix a car better. No fuckin’ way. No sirree. He’s gonna have to show her just how much smarter and how much better he is.

And that’s why I put up with those guys. They learn the most from the class and about life while trying to outdo the chick. I wasn’t there to impress anyone but myself, so I really didn’t care if a guy felt he had to do better than me. Quite honestly, I’ve always been book smart and the autoshop tests were pretty easy for me…which made ego guys work harder to learn more. I always had one of the top three or four scores on each written test. And seeing a guy go from a D to a B during a semester was always a joy.

Same for working on the cars. I wasn’t always that great. I had lots to learn about how things went together and stuff. That was when the ego guys could and often did show me up…and I learned a lot from them showing off. For that I’m thankful.

So there you have it. Toolwench’s take on the types of car guys. I still think it’s a confidence thing. Women are guilty of it, too. There were times when I did want to show that I had a clue what I was doing. I do get irritated when I rumble up in my Mustang and some asshole says, “Hey, is that your boyfriend’s/husband’s/dad’s/brother’s/uncle’s car.” I do sometimes feel that I have something to proove, but I choose those battles wisely. I know where I stand in my car knowledge and lack thereof. I always want to learn more. That will never change.

And, no, it’s not my boyfriend’s/husband’s/dad’s/brother’s/uncle’s car. It’s mine!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m trying to post more often, but in that, I end up posting less often. I don’t know how that happens, but anyway, this time I do have a reason. I was gone for a week. I’d done the journey in about 4 days before, but this time, well, things went a bit differently.

I was driving a fully loaded ‘85 Cadillac Seville. Yep, that was 135 horses of purebread slowness, following a motorhome towing a trailer–which could smoke me on accelleration! Oh yeah, I was feelin’ sassy in my Cad-O-Lack that had been sitting for about ten years and probably should have been towed, but what the heck, I only live once.

And when Bobby Ore asks if you’d drive for him, the only answer is yes. So I did.

But the car kept breaking down. No surprises there, huh?

30 minutes in, radiator blew.

3 or 4 hours from there, the smog pump belt broke–and it was brand new!

Another 3 or 4 hours from there, we limped into a shop.

…Who among other things didn’t tighten down one of the radiator hoses.

Another 5 hours from there, that radiator hose came loose and sprayed the brakes plus the windshield. Nice.

Limping into another shop got everything patched up, but I think we were both still wary.

The rest of the trip went off without incident. Which was refreshing, I might add!

Somewhere during the first bit, we pulled off to glue the rearview mirror back on. But given that I’ve unsuccessfully done 4 and have a propensity for having them come off in my hand when I adjust them, I let Bobby do the glueing and then I decided to wait a few hours to let the glue dry.

Well, hours turned into days because I completely forgot!!!!! This pic was taken during the last 200 or so miles of the trip:

One of the reasons I forgot about the rearview was because I was concerned with the sideview mirror. The passenger side one was good as gold, but the driver side one… Well, I dunno what was going on with it other than it wasn’t really connected to the guts behind it. Over the course of the first thousand miles or so, I finally set up this sophisticated method of getting it to stay properly aligned. It was quite an engineering feat considering I had nothing but a couple napkins to work with…

All in all, even though it was hellish, the trip was worth making. I mean, if nothing else, it can serve as a memory of times much worse. I survived just fine. A little worse for wear, but the car made it to Florida in one piece after those first three days.

I forgot to take a picture of the car itself…Duh…I know, I know… But here was my view from Los Angeles to Central Florida:

Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.