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... direction, but looking over my shoulder with a smile for Dave when I reached her car. "You're quite the little tease, aren't you?" he asked as I put the box on the floor a few feet ahead of the car. "No," I refuted with the smile I was getting used to showing him. "Why do you say that?" "I've been around the track a couple of times Darin," he said, checking out my boobs before setting his handful of tools beside the box. "What do you mean?" He gave me a funny look and turned to the car, feeling under the front lip of the hood for a second before raising it to expose the engine. A moment later, he was using a screwdriver to remove a big, black plastic thing from the top of the engine, changing the topic as I watched his big hands at work. "So, you still in school?" "No, I graduated this past spring." "Going to university?" "No." "Wise young woman," he complimented, much to my pleasure, "Ya know what 'PHD' means?" "What?" "Permanent head damage," he misinformed with a smile. I thought this was pretty funny as he went on to amend his joke with, "Mind you, if you wanna be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a fuckin' rocket scientist, or whatever, university's a pretty good idea but, otherwise, it's just an opportunity to pay a shitload of money to be told what and how to think." "That's not what my guidance councillor at school said." "Yeah, well he obviously lined up and paid his money. I did too, for a few years. Then I smartened up and quit, started putting that money to better use. ...

... Hand me those pliers there, will ya?" I bent to grab them and, when I straightened, found him watching with another of his appreciative smiles. Taking the pliers, he checked out my midsection before turning back to his work, asking me a different question. "Got a job?" "No." "Can't find one?" I shrugged, replying, "I didn't look. I thought I'd enjoy some time for myself for a while." "How do you get money?" "Mom." He nodded at this, removing something attached to some wires from another big, black plastic thing. "So, what's wrong with it, anyway?" I asked, "besides that it's a Cobalt?" He grinned and replied, "Sludge buildup in the throttle body. Happens a lot to these cars. Not a big deal, just a pain in the ass. I'm changing the plugs and replacing the fuel filter too cause its good practice, but all it needs is to be cleaned out with some injector cleaner and she'll be good for another little while." "Mom says it's a shiny red, piece of shit." He laughed at this, saying, "Yeah, well she's right. As the 'big three's' newer cars go, these aren't too bad, but you won't catch me buying anything built by them after nineteen-ninety-nine." Beginning to admire his intellect as much as his stature, we went on talking of everyday things for a little while, he checking me out every now and then as he worked, until we were interrupted by a hollow, "bung, bung, bung!" sound. Turning around, I found the source to be Dawn, knocking on the office window. She crooked her finger with that ...