Ryan Newcomer is definitely NOT a mechanic-by Ryan Himself

Tonight I had one of those rare moments when I feel like a complete moron because of my ineptitude in understanding auto mechanics, particularly with my own vehicles. I take for granted how these thousands of parts are able to function as expected and take me from point A to B. The only time I pay attention is when that hunk of metal DOESN’T get me from point A to B. Then I feel totally helpless because I know I’m going to shell out hundreds if not thousands of dollars to “Hank” and his boys down at the shop while they look at my flux capacitor and tell me my connectakazoink isn’t “syncing” correctly with the bearings blah blah blah and I nod my head like an idiot as if I understand because my manhood is being challenged when and if I act confused. That’s the reason why I’ll pay whatever I need to even if they’re ripping me off and laughing at me down in the oil pit while they take a smoke break. So, back to my moronic moment. I’m hanging with my very pregnant wife and two rambunctious kids doing wify errands like visiting Old Navy for baby clothes, Linens and Things for a tennis raquet bug zapper and Costco for eco-friendly laundry detergent. I did talk my wife into letting me get the $100 fireworks pack (valued at $340.00, what a steal!) so it was worth the jaunt. In the 100 degree heat we head back to our reliable almost paid off Japanese SUV and after we get into our jet black oven of a car I put the key in and nothing happens…another FREEEAAK! moment characterized by Newcomer bros. I accuse my wife of leaving a light on and running down the battery, I get a jump from our parking lot neighbor.... still nothing…the starter doesn’t even crank! I’m all “yeah, it’s gotta be a bad starter” and inform my wife I’ll need our state farm roadside assistance to get our car to a mechanic so they can replace a starter. Enter in the call to the towing company…me in my infantile expertise explaining that my starter must be shot because it’s not even engaging. So they show up with the huge flatbed tow-truck with flashing lights pointing out to the fellow Costco shoppers that there’s a crappy car somewhere in the lot that got in but can’t get out. Then enter the tow truck driver…the reference point which really shows others that I’m definitely NOT a mechanic. He was young and pudgy, wearing airwalks, black saggy skater shorts with the mandatory chain connected wallet, white t-shirt and a million half-finished tattoos (spider webs around the elbows, etc.) But the true Pièce de résistance were the huge gauge earrings with the sitting naked lady silhouettes in them. I’m telling you dude, that’s Picasso caliber art for White Trash. Needless to say, standing next to this one of a kind American specimen in my light blue button shirt with plaid knee length shorts made me feel like a nerdy Mormon Dad. I mean, he was sooo cool. So he asks me to explain in my limited understanding what was wrong with my car. He then asks me to give him the keys so he can take a look. He starts the car and explains I need to make sure I’m in Park as the car has a safety switch which prevents me from starting it in gear. Cost for him making me feel like an idiot: $55.00. Seeing the reason why I don’t want to be a mechanic: priceless. I wish I had a picture..all he was missing was a mullet!