Love Me Tender...

The following is a true story, only the names have been changed to protect the foolish.

Steve and I worked together for several years and several different employers. On one of our jobs we hauled junk cars for a late model automotive recycler. The pay was okay and we never worried about having reliable transportation as good used cars and parts were cheap to employees. Those were the sort of perks that came with the job.

Even the man who owned the company drove a car that had once been salvage. Of course his salvaged car was a three month old Sedan De Ville by Cadillac. One morning while the boss was in his office-- before most of the other employees except for us drivers had arrived-- I handed Steve a turn-signal flasher I had ordered from the J.C. Whitney Automotive Mail Order Catalog. “What’s this for?” Steve asked as he looked at the unusually large turn signal flasher.

“It’s a turn signal flasher, Dummy.”

“I know what it is,” Steve replied. “What do you want me to do with it, Dummy?”

“Go put it in the bosses’ car,” I replied. “I’ll make sure he stays in the office.”

“What for?” Steve asked.

“It's musical. It plays Love Me Tender when you turn on the signal,” I replied, my grin giving away the joke I was putting Steve up to.

“You mean like Elvis?” Steve laughed. “You’re shittin’ me...” Steve put the flasher in the socket under the dash of the bosses’ Caddy while I walked inside the boss’ office to ask him some questions to which I already knew the answers.

A few days later the boss asked Steve to drive the Caddy around back so that the shop foreman could take a look at it. “Is something wrong with it?” Steve asked.

“Oh no,” the boss replied. “I just like making sure everything is in good working order before I go out of town.” Steve drove the car to the shop where we had already clued the shop foreman in on the joke. Later that same day we were both washing our trucks when the boss came to pick up his car. Steve, the shop foreman, and I watched as the boss drove away.

It only took about three minutes before the boss came wheeling into the driveway. “Something wrong?” the foreman asked.

“I hate Elvis!” the boss shouted as he turned and walked away. “Billy, I’m driving your truck home tonight. I want my Cadillac fixed before the three of you go home tonight.

“I guess we’ll need this,” Steve said holding the proper turn signal flasher in his hand. “How much overtime you think we can make out of this?” he said as the entire shop crew burst into laughter. The boss didn’t say a word. We both knew he’d pay us back, we looked forward to the challenge.

Weeblin Pins And Woblin' Shafts

The following is a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the foolish as well as the guilty.

Chuck was proud of that '65 Mustang with the 289, 2bbl carb and automatic transmission just as any 17 year old would have been proud after the 4 years of newspaper routes it took him to earn the $400.oo needed to buy it. But frankly his friends were getting a little tired of hearing him brag about his Mustang when the rest of us were still stuck driving our mothers' station wagons. That's why I pried off the right rear wheel cover and put a piece of gravel inside before putting it back on.

The next time Chuck drove his Mustang it made an awful racket as the rock tumbled around in between the wheel and the wheel cover. Chuck wasted no time in getting the car to the neighborhood shade tree mechanic who knew exactly what the problem was as soon as he heard Chuck turn into his driveway. "Sounds like you need a weeblin pin for your woblin' shaft," George greeted Chuck with a smile.

"Is it going to cost a lot?" Chuck asked.

"Probably not more'n a dollar," George answered.

"How much to put it on?" Chuck nervously asked not knowing if he could afford the labor.

"Tell you what, Chuck, you delivered my paper for years, why don't you let me call it a tip being I never gave you one." George beamed, his hand outstretched. "You just run on down to NAPA and tell Charlie what you need and I'll fix 'er up."

"Deal," Chuck said as he shook George's hand. "Will it hurt to drive it?"

"Naw, just keep it under about 20 miles per hour and she should be just fine."

Driving less than 20 the 3 miles to the NAPA store was hard but Chuck wasn't about to risk damaging his Mustang even though the old lady in the Buick behind him was blowing her horn and shaking her fist most of the trip. "Smart ass, punk," the lady yelled as she drove away from the traffic light. "Why don't you fix that hunk of junk?"

When Chuck got to the NAPA store he went straight inside and asked for Charlie and explained what he needed. "Sorry," Charlie answered, "sold the last one I had in stock just this morning. But I'll get in a new shipment next week."

"Next week," Chuck moaned, "but I need to fix it today."

"Well why don't you give W & B Auto Parts a try?" Charlie suggested. "Pretty much everybody stocks those things."

"Thanks," Chuck said as he ran out the door.

At W & B Auto Parts it was pretty much the same story so they send him to Joe's Auto Parts where again he had no luck. Finally, after repeating the same story again and again someone suggested Chuck try Jack's Auto Wreckers so Chuck held up traffic again and made the slow trip to the junkyard at the edge of town. "You got a weeblin pin for the woblin' shaft for a '65 Mustang?" Chuck asked as he walked up to the used parts counter.

"Sorry, all out," a man behind the counter said as he and everyone else in the room started laughing.

"What are you laughing about?" Chuck shouted. "I need a weeblin pin for my woblin' shaft, ain't nothin' funny 'bout it.!" Everyone could see Chuck was about to cry or spit any second but they continued their laughing.

"Okay," Jack said as he came out of his office. "This boy has done been run all over town, somebody get him a screwdriver and help him get the rock out of his wheel cover before somebody runs into the back of his car."

To repeat what Chuck said next would ruin the G rating of GreensboroJunkyards.com.