Coffee & Fix [ Ongoing ]

3- The Distant Laughter...

"Like how it has been." Mac shrugs his shoulder before scanning the item one by one. I'm about to say something before my phone vibrates from my back pocket.

I fish my phone out and see who the caller is. It's Marcus. I slide to answer the call and place it near my ear. "Yeah, what's up?" 

"Derek, the parts that we ordered yesterday is being canceled. The suppliers are being idiots about it." 

"Cancelled? Fine, I'll head to the workshop myself later." 

"All right man. See you." I hang up my phone and put it deep into the back pocket.

I pay for the stuff and bid farewell to Mac as I head out of the store. I walk to where my car is park with both of my hands carrying the groceries. I press the car key and put the stuff back at the boot.  Before I get into the driver's seat, I notice a guy cursing to himself, kicking his feet at presumably, his car.

I close the car's door and walk towards the furious guy. "H-hey man. What seems to be the problem?" He turns his head to me, stopping himself from kicking the poor car again.

"This piece of junk has been ruining my day. It won't move. But the damn engine is still working."

I look at the car. It looks like a new model but that has been worn out with time. "Would you mind if I look at your car? I'm a mechanic."

"Yeah, whatever. I doubt you would have better luck than me." He scoffs as he wraps his arms, with an annoyed look plaster on his face.

I walk to the front of the car, pulling the hood open. So far, nothing seems wrong, everything seems to be in its rightful place. I close the hood down and begin to walk around the car, inspecting for any damage or leakage. I crouch down and look at the below part of the car. And that's when I notice it. A puddle of liquid dripping onto the road. 

"Uhuh. I think I found the root of the problem." I get back up to my feet and look at that guy. "You have a transmission fluid leak."

"And? I don't know what the hell that means."

"It means, that you have to call a tow truck and get it to a nearby workshop." The look on that guy's face says it all. Disgust. And frustration. 

"So, you're telling me that not only my car is mess up, but you can't fix it?" He uncrosses his arms and beats the hell of the car, for no reason.

"Well," I take out my wallet and hand him one of my mechanic cards. "you can call this number. And they would fix it for you, at a lower cost."