Yesterday my husband and I were driving through the mountains. His car is in need of new tires – they’re almost bald. We were discussing how much longer they could last and I asked if his car had a spare tire.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I assume so.”
Really? Hmmm. Okay, I thought. So if we get a flat in the mountains we may or may not have a replacement. Seems to me that you should know if you have a spare, right?
Then he says, “Besides, that’s what AAA is for.”
Oh, boy. First, we were out of cell phone range so AAA wouldn’t do us a darn bit of good.
Second, changing a tire isn’t rocket science (assuming you have a working spare.)
“Isn’t that why you have AAA?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I have AAA in case I need a tow. I know how to change a tire.”
“Oh,” he said. “I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. I’d call AAA.”
I let it drop because there really was nothing more to say. I’d rather change a tire myself than wait for some tow truck driver or mechanic to find his way into the mountains to change it for me. It takes about ten minutes to change a tire. It takes about two hours for a mechanic to find, and get to you, in the mountains – I know this because I have needed a tow in the mountains before and it was a very long day.
So on that note, I thought that today’s story starter might be fun if it were about a woman mechanic and the picture above just about sums it up.
Your hero walks into the garage. He’s passing through this small town, he’s a city guy, and his car breaks down. He meets your heroine, the garage owner and a mechanic, and doesn’t know what to do with the fact that she’s both beautiful and obviously more skilled with a wrench than he is. How does he react? What happens?