Taking your car into a garage is always a calculated risk. How much do you really know about the inner workings of an engine? How much, more to the point, will your mechanic try to sting you for?
Upon arrival, the absolute worst thing you can say is "I think it's broken." You may as well open your wallet and cry "Go on, help yourself!" My current favourite tactic is to say "I think it might be the exhaust", even if it clearly isn't. That way, they seem less inclined to suck air through their teeth and rattle off a list of expensive parts that need replacing.
Fear. That's a mechanic's greatest weapon. Nobody wants their engine to fall out in the middle of the dual carriageway, do they. All it takes is one phone call saying "I'm sorry Mr Shone, but your Flippertygiblet has gone all sprongly", and I'm quite happy to write a massive cheque, nodding vigorously as I do so. Mind you, I do feel that I have a reasonalbly trusting relationship with my mechanic. So is it just human nature that stops us from eliminating those last few grains of suspicion?
Tonight, it's time for more staff bowling. Will anyone beat the boss? Er... no. Probably not.
