The craziest thing I ever did? What the hell, I'll tell you. It started a long while back. Near the end of another hard winter day, freezing my ass off in the workshop ten hours straight. I was finishing up a PCV valve replacement, and my mind was already at Jack's; stool at the bar, my buddies playing pool, and a bottle of bourbon with my name on it. Tightened the valve hose, slotted it all in place, and slammed the manifold shut; midnight, quitting time. Grabbed a rag for my hands and headed out front, only to have a voice pull me up short. "Davis!"
It was the night foreman, Hank- had a nasty temper and no time for us mechanics. "Wrench monkeys", he called us in private; was always lying to the boss about us, trying to get us fired if we gave him any attitude. Pushed his head through the side-window, gave me that unfriendly squinty stare of his.
"Got one last job for you, Davis- you ain't off just yet."
Ugly bastard was always getting my back up, calling me by my last name, for chrissakes. Everyone else, even the owner, always called me Pete.
"Come on, man," I tried a grin. "My shift finishes in five; Gary and Steve are gone already."
He gave me another dose of that ugly squint.
"Guess what, Davis- I don't give a fuck. A fuel filter needs changing- you're the only grown-up wrench monkey on site."
My blood boiled whenever he spoke to me like that; chubby fuck probably never lifted a wrench in his life. I got a brief flash of slamming my fist into his face, smashing those giant glasses; but I knew sure as anything if I gave him any trouble, I'd be out a job with no reference, quick-sharp. The way the economy was, I wouldn't have another coming my way any time soon.
I unclenched my fists resignedly. "Fuel filter, you say."
Could be a quick job, depending. Might make it to Jack's by one; the guys never went home until two. "Carbureted?" I asked hopefully.
Hank's face split in a yellow smoker's grin. "No such luck, wrench monkey- it's fuel-injected. Guess you're not gettin' home any time soon."
Could feel the anger rising, but did my best to keep my voice calm. "That's bullshit! It'll take too long! Plus," I tried to appeal to his rules, "Union regs say if I stay late I get a partner. Two-man job."
That yellow grin of his turned into a sharp scowl; I knew if I pushed it any farther, he'd get me for it. So I did my best to pull up a calm, polite face while he hesitated. "Fine," he snapped. "Two man job, alright."
Since Gary and Steve were already at the bar, I figured that was me safe; I could do the job tomorrow on day-shift, when Hank wasn't around to make things shitty for me. He smiled darkly. "You can have the new kid, then- he's degreasing parts in the back. Get to work."
He yanked his head back out of the window and waddled off, glad to get his nasty parting shot in. I heard him yelling for the new kid, rattling his keys as he got ready to lock up the doors and windows.
The new kid. What was his name, I wondered- Jake? Josh? Something like that. Whatever it was, he was seriously starting to compete with Hank as the most annoying thing about the job. Fresh out of some state technical college at twenty one, he strolled around cocky and grinning, like he owned the place. Always slacking off, thought he knew it all, bullshitted when he didn't. Someone needed to tell him a fancy diploma didn't make him a mechanic; at thirty-six, I had twenty years of experience. Problem was, he was that young and good-looking, it made my cock jerk when he strolled by.
None of the other guys made a big deal of me being bi; back in the day when I was new on the job it might've been, but by 2010 it was just another quirk, like how Gary drank his whiskey with Red Bull or Steve wore his checkered shirts a size too big. Anyway, it was becoming one hell of a problem. Couldn't get too close in case someone noticed the reaction downstairs, if you catch my drift; a seven-inch hard-on gets noticed in the dumb fucking overalls the company makes us wear. In fact, I hadn't worked with him at all, now I came to think about it.
I made my way round to Bay Three, hearing Hank's keys jangle as he started locking the doors. I had a quick look over the bulky black Honda I was supposed to change the filter on, before the new kid arrived, walking that same easy lope like he hadn't a care in the world, blond hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed.
"Oh, hey," he said. "Pete, right? Steve mentioned you the other day."
I nodded at him with a grunt, trying my best not to look anywhere but his face. "I'm Jake," he said, heading round to the hood. "So what we got here?" There was a click from the front as Hank left, locking us in.
By the time we got the engine exposed and the car positioned, I had to admit he might know what he was doing. Inexperienced, maybe- but talented; quick and careful hands that went exactly where they were needed. Did my best to focus on the task at hand, instead of imagining those skilful hands down the front of my overalls. "We'll have to relieve the pressure in the fuel line before we disconnect it," I said.