Today I took the Subaru into a dealership to get the oil changed which is something I am usually against - dealership oil jobs. It's a pretty standard procedure made way more expensive for not that good a reason. But the warranty I have on the car insists I take it to a certified place like this and so this morning I discovered something dealerships actually have over independent mechanics and that something is the "Dealership Cafe." It defies all logic, that there in the middle of a sea of cars and kitty-corner from the whirs and cranks of the onsite mechanic should be a cafe serving up short stacks and unlimited coffee like its Twin Peaks but - and perhaps this is why am so smitten by the existence of them - there it was.
So yeah. I like dealership cafes because the majority of people coming in where actual employees of the dealership like truck drivers at greasy spoons. There was one other couple, a goofy guy trying to cheer up his girlfriend who had strong thoughts about the place she worked out and how it was being run.
Another table some guy was getting comforted by another about what sounded like a cancer diagnosis. That was especially sad because the guy was in the "stunned" state of overwhelming news and you could tell his mind was collecting all the new pieces of his possible new realty. An devastating detail I overheard was that the doctor asked about the medical history of his father and the guy's adoptive father started answering but it turned out the guy had to make a call to his biological father who he wasn't on great terms with. Poor dude. I hope it turns out to be okay.
We just sent you an email. Please click the link in the email to confirm your subscription!
OKSubscriptions powered by Strikingly