I own a small automotive shop. We do general service and repair on all years and all makes. I enjoy the work and it makes me a living. I also like the idea of being my own boss. No one to answer to except my customers. I guess you could look at it as having more than one boss to answer to, but I like the work. The best part of the job is that we do a lot of 30's, 40's, 50's and 60's cars. Routine maintenance and service, motor swaps, disc brake conversions, suspension modifications; all kinds of restoration and hot rod work. Love this part of what we do a lot.
Then there are the customers. I am lucky that I have a large following of loyal customers that are real gems to work with. A lot of just plain good people. Sure they're a few assholes, but I have been fortunate to weed out most of those before we did any work on their cars. Still a few slip through and we just have to deal with them.
I have had my shop for the last 7-years. Prior to that I led what I refer to as my corporate life. I worked for several major truck and car companies mostly in a variety of marketing and training positions for over 20-years. I have been doing the hot rod thing as a hobby all my life and finally decided that I was fed up with the corporate grind and wanted my own shop. Maybe a little late in life to make such a major a career change (55-years old), but felt it was time and if I didn't do it now I never would. So I stepped out on the end of the high board and dove in.
Physically the shop is a lot more demanding than what I was doing before. I'm in not too bad of shape, and reasonably good looking, so I have been told. The work is good and I appreciate not having to get on airplane two or three times a month. That's one of the real pluses of what I am now doing. I hate flying!
Mostly I play it pretty straight around the shop. Business, you know, professional attitude and all. Every now and then something happens that makes me consider changing that policy.
One such occurrence happened a while back. I had a young lady come in with a 1961 Corvette. A really nice car. Probably as nice an original unrestored early Corvette as I have seen. Dual quad, 283" small block Chevy with a T-10 four-speed. The body and interior as well as all the trim was original and well cared for. Julie brought the car in for a major tune-up. It just wasn't running well. She had been in several times before with her daily driver for oil changes, brakes and the like over the previous two years and we had gotten to know each other a little, but this was the first time that she had come in with her Corvette.
I had admired Julie's body one more that one occasion in the past. She was about 30, maybe 100 lbs. Petite and small framed, but with enough curves that she made a very attractive package. Short brunette hair, a firmly rounded ass, flat stomach with small very pert breasts and extraordinarily large nipples. These I had observed on several occasions protruding against her T-shirt, which is her normal attire. She had a very pretty angelic face with a cute smile and a slightly turned up nose. Nothing all that voluptuous or overtly sexy, just a very nice appealing package. I didn't know if she were married or had a boyfriend. Our brief conversations had never gone in that direction, and I had not noticed a ring on her finger.
On this particular occasion, she seemed particularly animated and talkative. The Corvette was hers, a gift from her father when she graduated form college. He had purchased it when it was about 5-years old and had not driven it much and kept it in the garage, which accounted for its pristine condition. As is my usual routing in filling out the work order, I wrote down her name, address, phone number and what she wanted done to the car. Check this, fix that, replace those, etc. Took down the license number and VIN of the Corvette and when I leaned in to get the mileage a strange thing happened. As I was bent over leaning into the car co I could see the odometer, Julie reach over and stroked my ass. She put her hand on my ass cheek and rubbed it 3 or 4 times. I damned near jumped out of skin that I was so surprised. It felt good, I liked it, please don't stop.
When I stood and turned around I saw Julie standing with her hand over her mouth and blushing bright red. "I don't know what got into me. I just couldn't stop myself. I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry forgive me.," she apologized.
I smiled at her, "Only if I can reciprocate," I replied mischievously.
As we turned to head back to the office to finish writing up the work order I reach out and gave her sweet ass a couple if rubs. She turned back to look at me with a beg smile on her face. "Naughty, naughty, I deserved that!"
We went back into the office and finished going over what she wanted done to her Corvette. I told her that it would take a couple of days to finish it and would give her a call when it was done or if we found anything else that it needed. She thanked me and turned to leave as her father had just drove up to give her a ride home. Now, what had happened wasn't a big deal, but as far as I was concerned it had gone way beyond my normal business relationship. Our fifteen-year age difference seemed enough to me to deter any interest in me on her part.
We completed the work on her Corvette without difficulty. It was really very straight forward, plugs, wires, cap, rotor, points, condenser, check and set the ignition timing. Gave her a call when we were finished and told her that it was done and she could pick it up when it was convenient for her. She came in later that day.
As she was paying the bill, she again apologized for her actions when she had brought the car in, "I just don't know what got in to me, but I couldn't resist touching you tush as you were bent over. It just looked so inviting I couldn't help my self. I hope that you are not offended."
"Not in the least, in fact, it did my ego some good. I should be thanking you," I answered trying to make light of the incident.
