As a poor graduate student in Economics Department in USA, I have to go to the repairshop managed by the Mexicans since they are "cheap". My Toyota Camry manufactured in 1997 is not as lovable as the first time I met her. She has a hole in the front, some rust on her body and a smoking engine. The recent experience was that when I was driving the car on the road, I smelled a strong unpleasant smoke, which reminded me of the emissions from the chemical factory back in China. I realized that the odor was coming from her until she moaned and slowed down. I had to pull her over and found out that she was "smoking hot". Abandoning my former plan to go to the highway, luckily that she notified me before hitting on the speed way, I had to drive her to the mexican man's repairshop. A bunch of hardworking and tattoed mexican workers sweating in the repairman shop and as usually I gave them the key and went back home waiting for their calls. A week later, the guy charged me 250 bucks for fixing her right. As I was happily driving my 'healthy' parterner back home, she stopped right in the middle of the road, dead.
I was scared and called the repairman shop. One guy came over and towed my car back and told me the bad news after examining "the shif cable of your car is broken". I was suspicious then since she was just out of the hospital, from where the "doctors" should have already taken good care of her, and now look at her, she was sick again. Shouldn't I be suspicious of the doctors' capabilities? I was thinking about switching to another prestiged car-hospital before those butchers ill-treated my car and cheated my hard-earned money? From my sharp stare while talking to the guy in the shop, my eyes sagged after he told me that you cannot drive her anymore since she is "dead", I need to buy a new cable. But since she is antic, there was no part for sale there. I have to buy the part from the Toyota Dealer. With despair, I called my friend to drive me to the Toyota Dealer and asked for the piece. The guy who worked there meticuously inputed the description I told her about the part and quoted me the price as $258. What the f*** man, are all the companies trying to steal Chinese people's money here in the US since their economy rotted and blamed Chinese for their own illness, I can see the white people's wry eye and mouth movement. As an intellectual people, I have to be polite even though I want to shout out loud "what's wrong with this world?". My friend was so smart to tell me that I should resort to online resources and later I checked Ebay and found out the same part only took me for 80 bucks, one third of the price the Toyota dealer charged me. The consumer surplus was so high that I ecstatically paid online using my credit card. Five days later, my part arrived at home and I took the part to the Mexican's repairshop, eager to see my precious her. The guy asked me to leave since he said it was not easy to replace a shift cable. I left and got the call three days later. The car-hospital charged me 260 bucks, remember I paid the part; this is only the labor fee since he claimed that he has worked 5 solid hours to get the broken part out and put the new cable in. My car key was in their hands so I have to pay them in order to drive her back. As soon as I lightened her up and found out that the lights on the cable were not on. I was lucky not driving far and turned back and showed the guy there. He told me to come back tomorrow since the shop was going to get closed. With anger and dissapointment, I drove her back wondering in my mind what the hack did those Mexican people do to you. I drove her back the other day and decided not to leave her alone  in the butchers' hands. I told the workers that I was going to stand by her and see how the doctors are saving the cars. In the garage-like room, the walls are fully hung by the intestine-like steel tubes, the black tyres were packed on the closets like sardines. In the far corner, there were a bunch of doctors dissecting the patients, transplanting a new heart to the deadly ill car. I do not understand all those procedures, what if those doctors have mal-treatment or overdose the patients or maybe not fully cured the patients so that the car owners can go back to resort to them. The mexican people were exchanging in hispanics, which fall out of my understandings. They seemed to plan a conspiracy on my car. Now my car had two guys in, their legs hanging outside, hands fiddling my newly-installed shift cable. They took the cable all out and tested the light bulbs. There was another very sick car beside mine, hoisted onto the operation table, like a piece of meat waiting to be cut by the butchers on the chopping board. The fires coming out and the sparkle came toward me as they tried to cut the organs infested with cancer. They had better cut it before the malicious illness spreading to the whole body, that's what they told me the first time I came to this car-bodyshop, since my tubes under the car were rusty with a hole, which caused the big noise after I started my car. As I was watching the sufferrings of the other cars, I noticed my car was empty as I turned my head back, and the engine was still on. What the hell were the repairmen? I found them called to examine a newly-sent car. I was patient at first, but almost half an hour later, they were still examining that car. I gathered my guts and forwarded to the bunch of guys: hey men, my car's engine was still on, why nobody was taking care of it? Those men looked back with a weird and astonished look, suspicious of my motivation by coming to their own territories as if I am the only female daring to enter their hinterland and confront them. The two guys returned back to my car with no apologies, I was wondering where the 5 solid hours coming from now. They exchanged some funny comments in hispanics and laughed. I have no idea what was their conspiracy but I promised her that I will not take her back to this slaughterhouse with murderous smells. They went away after half an hour fiddling my car and talked to another bunch of people. I waited and waited, seeing the parts falling out inside her with my lips locked. It was like seeing the doctors left chatting with each other, leaving the patient being transplanted alone in the middle of the process, bloody organs out and lifeline was weakening on the monitor. I took out the i-touch in my bag and started to shoot some pictures, which aroused the guy's attention. He came back and started installing the pieces as if I were the espionage from China ready to expose their inside job.
Finally, my car was fixed with me standing alongside her for totally 4 hours.
I gave out all my time standing by her as her safe-guard and escorted her back home.
Story done and she is still healthy now, praise to the Lord.