Revoking My Man Card

We bought a new vehicle yesterday. A pick-up. The first brand-new pick-up and only our second brand-new vehicle in 25 years of marriage. It doesn't have all the bells and whistles but it's got a lot of them. And it fits in the garage with two whole inches to spare!

We did some shopping and test driving last week. A young woman who had recently graduated from college and had been hired as a sales consultant answered questions and told us about the features. She did a great job. The bonus was that she hadn't learned any of the high-pressure sales crap and was genuinely embarrassed when her sales manager insisted that she inquire what it would take to sell us one that day.

My family genetics won't allow me to make that kind of purchase decision. I won't even buy underwear without thinking about it for a few days. So we found a price that we were both okay with, asked if they could get it in a different color than the arrest-me red they had in stock and left. After sleeping on it and with a few more conversations we decided to get it. We called, put down a deposit, and were told it would be available on Monday.

Monday evening we arrived at the dealership and another sales consultant who we had worked with in the past joined the sales consultant we had been working with most recently. Before we signed any papers or handed over a check we were given an opportunity to look over the vehicle we were buying. I walked around the truck, looking for dents or scratches. We climbed inside and turned knobs and clicked switches. Then the sales guy asked, Do you want to see under the hood?"

Without hesitation I replied, "Nope."

As the sales guy went on talking about features I had this creepy sensation that some disembodied spirit was reaching into my wallet and revoking my Man Card. Had I really just declined the opportunity to look under the hood? In that refusal to stand and look at an engine where the only things I could identify were the battery and the windshield wiper fluid reservoir, did I really just admit in front of my wife and the sales guy that I have no clue  about the really important part of the vehicle?

I used to be able to do a basic tune-up on a car. I learned on a station wagon in which I could actually sit in the engine compartment while I worked. But the days of looking at an engine, giving a listen and being able to spot problems passed long ago. Nowadays mechanics connect a computer to the engine to see what is wrong. Somewhere deep inside I understood that standing in front of an open hood and staring at a jumble of wires and covered mechanical processes would just be a waste of time.

So take my Man Card if you have to. I'll be too busy streaming wireless music from my phone and talking on the hands-free entertainment system to care.