Cars are such a mystery to me. As far as I'm concerned, they're just metal contraptions that get you from point A to point B. As a result of my ignorance, however, I find myself in the most degrading of stereotypical categories - women who know nothing about cars. That's right. I go to Jiffy Lube and am total prey to their evil and manipulative ways. The mechanic will come in with a grim look on his face, wave my dirty air filter in the air, and drip some brownish black fluids on his clipboard, all signs of pending automotive disaster. So, I anxiously and resignedly fork over my money, hoping that my poor car will survive until its next oil change.

Who knew I was being victimized?! Well, Felix, of course. Shortly after we started dating, I needed to go in for another dreaded oil change. I complained bitterly to him about how expensive my car was to maintain. Felix took one look at my thick file of receipts and repair records and almost had an apoplexy; he was SO mad.

So that's how I found out I was being ripped off.

My behavior, however, didn't change overnight. When you know nothing about cars, it's hard not to fall under the sway of convincing and terrifying mechanics. Each time, Felix would give me a pep talk, and I'd think yeah, that's right! No one's going to abuse me this time! Grrr, I'd get mad and ready and...go and buy a new air filter and get some special cleaning fluid injected into my transmission. Sigh.

Eventually, I found a method that worked. Although I have an atrocious temper when I'm hungry or tired (just ask my family), I'm really a wimp under day-to-day circumstances. Instead of trying to facedown Jiffy Lube on my own, I now cower behind the husband or brother. I beg off by telling them that I can't make decisions on anything other than a simple oil change, since my car is actually Felix's or Tom's or some other family member's. And I'm a great liar - this pathetic excuse works every time.

I know, I know, it's a terrible thing to be a weak woman. And I'm really quite strong-minded and willful in other areas of my life. Just not with my car. If Felix is actually with me, I don't even go up to the customer counter. I just let him handle everything. Isn't that one of the pluses of being married, being able to play on each other's strengths?

One of these days, I'm going to beef up my automotive skills and drive confidently to my maintenance and repair appointments. In the meantime, my car gets me from Point A to Point B...which is all I need to be happy.