06/30/2026
🚨 BREWERS AUTO CARE CHRONICLES 🚨
There are days at Brewer's Auto Care when I walk in, pour my coffee, sit down at my desk, and think:
"Today might actually be a normal day."
This Day was not one of those days. 🤦🏻♀️
I should have known that the moment Doug walked into the shop this morning, stared into the parking lot for a concerning amount of time, and announced:
"I've got a feeling today is gonna be stupid."
Now, after nearly a decade of marriage and working together, I have learned that when my husband says he has "a feeling," it should be treated with the same seriousness as a tornado warning, a flash flood alert, or a text message from your mother that just says, "Call me."
He was not wrong.
The first customer of the day informed us that his truck was making "a bad noise."
Not a knocking noise.
Not a squealing noise.
Not a grinding noise.
Just...a bad one.
After what felt like a police interrogation and three failed attempts at interpretive sound effects, we finally determined that the noise sounded something like:
"Whurrrr-clunk-screech-click-click-BANG."
Which, for those of you unfamiliar with automotive diagnostics, narrows it down to somewhere between "minor inconvenience" and "you should probably call your financial advisor."
About the time Doug was processing that information, Cody wandered in carrying coffee and confidence in equal amounts and announced that he could diagnose any transmission problem using nothing but "gut instinct and vibes."
Brandon, who had apparently already exhausted his daily supply of patience before eight o'clock, didn't even look up before saying:
"Your gut instinct is why I drink."
Cody took a sip of coffee.
"That's funny coming from the guy who diagnosed a diesel with a broom handle."
"It worked."
"It was terrifying."
"It was accurate."
"You looked like a hillbilly stethoscope technician."
Brandon finally looked up.
"And yet I still fixed it."
At this point, Doug quietly turned around and walked back into the office because he recognized the early warning signs of what was about to become a forty-five-minute argument.
Unfortunately, Cody was just getting warmed up.
"You know what your problem is?" he asked Brandon.
"That I'm related to you?"
"No. You're too technical. You don't listen to the vehicle."
"The vehicle?"
"Yeah."
"What about the vehicle?"
"It tells you what's wrong."
Brandon stared at him for a solid five seconds.
"The vehicle talks to you?"
"Not with words."
"How then?"
"Vibes."
Doug, from the office:
"I don't want to hear another damn word of this conversation."
Naturally, nobody listened.
Cody continued.
"You ever just feel a transmission?"
Brandon blinked.
"No."
"That's your problem."
"My problem is that I'm having this conversation."
"The transmission has an energy."
"The transmission has gears."
"You have to connect with it."
"You need professional help."
At this point, I had abandoned all pretense of working and was simply enjoying the show.
Then Cody delivered the knockout punch.
"So you're saying you've never walked up to a vehicle and immediately known what was wrong with it?"
Brandon opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Then opened it again.
"...that's different."
Cody folded his arms and leaned back against his toolbox like a man who had just won a court case.
"No. That's vibes."
Doug walked back out of the office, pointed at Cody and said:
"Don't encourage him."
To which Cody replied:
"I've been right this whole time."
Doug looked at Brandon.
Brandon looked at me.
I haven't seen Brandon bow out of an argument that fast since he tried to explain to me why I didn't need another blanket for the living room. He was trapped! Every answer was only going to give Cody more ammunition. So, he chose absolute silence.
By ten o'clock, I had answered fifteen phone calls, explained to two separate people that "just topping off the oil" does not reverse catastrophic engine failure, and fought the office printer for the third consecutive day.
The printer won.
Again.
At 10:15, I answered the phone.
"Brewer's Auto Care, this is Lisha."
Caller: "How much to fix my car?"
Me: "What's wrong with it?"
Caller: "I don't know."
Me: "What kind of car?"
Caller: "A blue one."
Friends.
I wish I was making this up.
At approximately 10:30, a customer arrived on a trailer and informed Doug that his vehicle "wasn't doing anything."
Friends.
If you've ever worked in a mechanic shop, you know that a vehicle arriving on a trailer falls into one of two categories:
1. Mild inconvenience.
2. Evidence in a criminal investigation.
Doug asked what happened.
The customer shrugged. "It just quit."
Doug opened the hood.
Then he froze.
Not mechanic frozen.
Not confused frozen.
The kind of frozen where your soul temporarily exits your body and leaves you standing there to process things alone.
He slowly closed the hood.
Walked back into the office.
Poured himself another cup of coffee.
Looked at me.
And said:
"Well. I found the problem."
Naturally, I assumed catastrophic engine failure.
Maybe a seized motor.
Possibly a family of raccoons.
No.
The battery was gone.
Not dead.
Not disconnected.
Not loose.
Gone.
Completely absent.
Apparently, the battery had packed its belongings and left before the owner even got out of bed that morning.
The customer looked genuinely surprised.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Sir. Respectfully. We are too.
At this point, Cody was laughing so hard he had to sit down on a five-gallon bucket.
Brandon nodded solemnly and said: "That'll affect performance."
Doug stared out into the parking lot for what I can only describe as a spiritually significant amount of time.
Then he quietly said: "I should've become an accountant."
Honestly?
By lunchtime, the coffee pot was empty, the printer was plotting my demise, Cody had been promoted to "The Transmission Whisperer" (in his own mind), Brandon was reevaluating every life decision that had led him to this exact moment, and trying to decide if causing bodily harm to your little brother would be considered a felony or self-preservation and Doug had entered his final form: Silent mechanic staring into the distance.
And tomorrow morning, we'll all be right back here.
Because apparently none of us have learned a damn thing.
Because every day is a pretty good day at Brewer's Auto Care. 😆
So, if you need us tomorrow, we'll be right here: Fixing cars. Questioning humanity. And doing our absolute best to keep both your vehicles and ourselves going!
