I played with my phone for a few minutes while waiting for the instructor to arrive. I’d already received email confirmation and instructions as to how things would progress during the period where I posed for the class, thus I wore a bathrobe and slippers. I’d clipped my toenails because those claws just had to go. Hope they’d forgive my hammertoes, if they scrutinized me that closely.
The instructor’s name was Wayne Rodriguez, and when I looked him up, I could admit the guy was smokin’. And his artwork was actually pretty good, in my humble opinion. Hey, I could appreciate works of art, the effort that went into creating the perfect masterpiece. A smooth-running car was like art to me, now that I thought about it.
I loved being a mechanic, but didn’t necessarily want to be lauded for i
