Lily's Lube Job

Enis the Penis ran the local Rocket Lube and I’m not even kidding. He was also a reserve policeman and I’m not kidding about that either. The Rocket Lube changed the oil of young women who didn’t know how to change it themselves, and also of rich people who couldn’t be bothered with it, all busy shopping like they were. $35.99 for the full treatment, which included the oil, the oil change, and a once-over of your other lubricants. When the customer was a young woman, Enis the Penis and his cohorts would scare her with lies about the state of her vehicle so she would end up buying a bunch of filters and shit, squeezing another 30, 40 bucks out of her.

Enis the Penis was a tool and his stupid, grease-monkey cohorts were the tools of a tool. Enis thought he was smart, lying to a 22-year old woman, telling her how if she didn’t get a new filter for her tranny fluid she was going to end up ruining the Johnson Rod. He’d snicker at his wit. “And another thing….” he’d say. “And another thing….”

And the poor woman would pay and pay.

What a colossal dick Enis the Penis was. When there was a special event in town, like a halfway decent band or during the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, he got to play cop. Holy shit, did he get off on that. Even though he’d only work, like, four hours in the evening, he’d put the uniform on first thing in the morning and wear that bitch all day long, rattling to anyone who’d listen about how he was in the ‘reserves’ and how ‘needed and important’ he was.

He was an even bigger dick on those occasions, as you can imagine. It takes a special kind of asshole to want to be a cop in the first place, to want to be a professional buzzkill, to want to be a snooty, tattling hall monitor with a gun. But it takes a cosmic kind of asshole to want to pretend to be one.

Lily is a friend of mine and she needed her oil changed. Even though I told her not to, she went down to the Rocket Lube to get it done. She was young, just 23, and very headstrong. She wouldn’t listen to me.

All of my friends are young, in their 20s mostly, one or two in their early 30s. I can’t fucking stand people my own age. And men my own age are the worst–all that vacuous talk of golf and boats. It makes my skin crawl.

“Well,” Lily said to me. “You change it then.”

I refused, citing my aversion to physical labor. I did warn her about what was going to happen. “They’re gonna change your oil and then tell you how you need new filters on everything. They’re gonna tell you how your car is on the verge of ruin if you don’t act now.”

She said she was 3000 miles over and had no choice. “Besides, I won’t fall for that crap. What do you take me for?”

It was during the Rally when she went down there, so Enis was busy playing cop. His shit-brown uniform was neatly pressed as he ordered around his minions from his perch by the microwave. Whenever he was playing cop his cohorts at the Rocket Lube turned into his minions. It was the damnedest thing.

He sprang to his feet when he saw Lily drive up.

Lily is extremely attractive, you see, and not in a plastic, artificial, magazine type way, either. She’s curvy, corn-fed, and deliciously Midwestern. There’s thickness and substance to her and a very real naturalness that is, by today’s standards, completely exotic. Even though she was dressed casually for this particular occasion, wearing sweats and glasses rather than her contacts, her beauty was as obvious as a politician’s lie.

Enis the Penis began calling her honey and darlin’ and going on about what an adorable little thing she was and about how he was going to take care of her as soon as possible. Apparently, he felt that driving a car in a straight line was beyond her capacity, so he offered to pull it into the garage for her.

“No, thanks,” Lily told him. “I got it.” Enis the Penis shrugged and, using his hand, waved her on in.

Expertly, she pulled into the garage and directly over the pit where the minions waited with their wrenches and their lies. She turned the engine off and they began their mysterious, esoteric work down below.

The Rocket Lube has a little waiting area in the office nook. It consists of two dirty plastic chairs, a stack of out-of-date fishing magazines, and a little tv turned to the Fox News Channel. Shockingly, Lily chose to not make use of it and, instead, remained in her car and texted me.

“You’re right. This guy is a tool.”

“Told ya,” I responded. “Watch out! Bullshit up ahead.”

“I’m ready. He keeps looking at me. Eww! He’s really PUDGY.”

“Look away! Do not meet his eyes!”

“He’s the Pillsbury Dough Cop!”

Within fifteen minutes, the minions had completed their work and emerged from the pit as greasy as could be. There were four of them, a quartet of underpaid, blackfaced Al Jolsons. They consulted in hushed tones with Enis as he sat on his perch by the microwave.

“They’re getting their story straight,” Lily texted.

“Accept nothing!” I sent back.

Enis came up to the car. “It seems your fuel filter is shot, hon,” he said. “You’re gonna want to get that fixed. Also, your air filter is clogged. That’s really important. It’s like the lungs of the whole car.”

“Wow,” said Lily. “The lungs of the whole car?”

“Yep,” said Enis. His tone was fatherly. “If I were you, I’d go for the Filter-palooza. That’s where we go in and change all your filters at once, including for the power steering and transmission fluids, which, by the way, were both showing quite a bit of wear.”

“How much will all this be?”

“Well, normally, the Filter-palooza runs $58.99, but I’m willing to go an even $55 for you, since you’re so pretty and all.” He smiled, revealing his yellow teeth.

“Aw, shucks,” Lily said. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you, hon.”

I told you Enis the Penis was a dick. I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. The whole time he was talking to her, he was stroking his shiny black nightstick. He was always stroking his shiny black nightstick when he was playing cop.

“What’s happening?” I texted her, but she didn’t respond.

“Well….go ahead and do it, I guess,” she said. “Since I’m getting a deal and all.”

“A wise choice, young lady.” Enis the Penis turned on his jackboot and barked orders at his minions. They bobbed their heads up and down in acquiescence and scurried back under the car like rats. Enis returned to his perch by the microwave and resumed his leering.

The Filter-palooza concluded twenty minutes later. Enis approached the car with a somewhat stiff gait. He was squeezing his shiny black nightstick so hard a thick, white fluid oozed from its tip.

“You’re all set, hon,” he said, his voice trembling. “Pull around to the side and come on in the office and we’ll get you all squared away.”

Lily backed out of the garage and drove away.

“Suckers!” she texted me as she drove. “Woo!”

This all happened during the Rally at the beginning of August. It’s been over two months now and no one has come looking for her.

She totally got away with it.