Fashionable Black

I sat in the office doing the quarterly sales tax figures (thanks California) when a car drove in, and set off my trusty motion detector. I can’t do a smiley face, so I didn’t need to prepare for this potential customer. Out the office I go, do a quick glance to make sure the car isn’t of European origin. Confirming it was a Toyota, I glanced at the lady getting out of the driver’s side door. Holy Moley, folks, it’s a Goth. In my defense, I work on anyone’s car or truck if it’s of Asian or American origin. Baggy pants at mid thigh, ear and nose rings, old washed up flower child attire, none disqualify a potential customer here.

This lady walked around the car, and I immediately switched on my Mr. Robotico face of enthused interest. It helps to have such a face in my repertoire, to cover my initial facial urge of gape-mouthed rube. Imagine Wednesday Addams, completely clothed in black, aging into her late thirties, and adding black fingernails, black lipstick, black eye shadow, nose and eyebrow rings, and black dangling ear pieces. My first thought was there goes the blog drought. She smiled at me, waiting for the reaction she probably has come to expect. I didn’t give an inch.

“Hi, can I help you?” I asked in full on concerned, Mr. Robotico mode.

“Yes, I was recommended by a customer of yours,” and she rattles off a name of another new customer I acquired in the last year. “My name’s Lucretia McEvil (name changed for my own amusement). The check engine light is on in my Toyota, and I’d like you to have a look at it.”

“Sure,” I agree, leading the way into my office, and taking a seat at the desk for a look at the calendar. “You can drop it off tomorrow morning.”

“Do you charge for looking at it?”

“No, looking is free, but I charge for the diagnostic check,” Mr. Sarcastico sneaks in over Robotico for a moment, but I smile disarmingly.

Lucretia chuckles appreciatively and nods. “I live in Berkeley…”

Of course you do.

“…and I won’t be able to drop it off until nine. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I reply, and take down her address and phone number for the calendar and invoice.

As Lucretia walked out of my office, I wondered what Ms. McEvil dresses as for Halloween. I am not Gothaphobic, so please, no e-mails. I just hadn’t seen one styled so elaborately. Maybe Lucretia makes a few minor changes, and hits the Halloween party circuit as Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. :)