Love at the Jiffy Lube

Levi Spencer worked three part-time jobs to pay the rent, and rumor had it, to settle an old family debt.  He cleaned the floor of the supermarket at night, changed oil at the Jiffy lube by day, and on weekends sold tickets and popcorn at the town's only movie theatre.  He drove an old Chevy pickup, and rented a one-room apartment.

Aside from his lack of worldly possessions, he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever laid eyes on.  Over six feet tall, with wavy blonde hair, and eyes the shade of fresh mown grass; a young Robert Redford really, except for the eyes.  His long legs were always encased in a pair of faded jeans, so worn in spots I thought the only things holding them together were a wish and a prayer.  Consequently, I often prayed when he walked by, though not without a stab of guilt.  After all, perhaps he couldn't afford to replace the pair he was wearing.

            He was in his mid-twenties and I was barely out of high school, my nineteenth birthday still a week away, but I craved him like a pregnant woman's nine month lust for dark chocolate.

            I brought my '71 Duster to the Jiffy Lube for an unnecessary oil change that Tuesday and waited inside the car.  Levi motioned for the Mexican man working with him to go below and drain the semi-old oil.  He came to my window and smiled lazily down at me, his green eyes creasing in the corners and a small dimple showing in his chin.  I gazed up at him with all the womanly sex-appeal I could muster, hoping he would finally see me as something more than a recurring customer with a bulimic Duster.

              "Afternoon, Miss Chambers.  Nice to see you again."  He scratched his head with a ballpoint pen, and then held it out to me along with the printout of my car's Jiffy Lube history.  "Never seen a girl so intent on keeping her car lubed."

             I signed the paper and smiled innocently up at him, all the while picturing an entirely different lube job.  "It's an old car, but it's been running much better since you've been working on it."

            His mouth curved up.  "Well, I wouldn't say I've been working on it, Miss Chambers.  I only change oil and lube what needs to be lubed."

            If only you would.  A white heat seared my lower regions, creeping slowly up until my face flamed pink.  He reached in the window to take the pen from my hand, lying forgotten in my lap.  His touch on my fingers was the catalyst that caused my diffident personality to take a backseat to the seductress waiting to drive.  His face was mere inches away.  I felt my temperature rise abruptly as his eyes held mine for that split second and time stood still.  At least long enough for me to lean in and give him a big wet one.

            He jerked back so quickly he bumped his head on the window opening.  I couldn't say who was more embarrassed, the man before me, his face red with shock rubbing the bruise forming on top of his head, or the girl thrust back into the drivers seat as the seductress vaporized.

            "Mr. Spencer, I put oil in now?"  The little Mexican man popped his head up from under the car, his face and hair glistening with streams of black. 

             Levi turned with obvious relief at the sight of his co-worker, "Yeah, go ahead," then headed to the register.  He rang up the service price, seeming to take an overly long time at it.

            I watched him covertly from the corners of my eyes, trying to look as though I were staring straight ahead.  The day was sunny and bright, but my heart had turned dark gray.  I knew nothing would ever be the same between us again.  He would probably refuse to speak to me much less want to give me a lube job.  I let my hands drop from their death grip on the steering wheel and squeezed them tight between my thighs.  I felt suddenly cold all over, despite the summer temperature.

            Finally he returned, handed me the bill, and waited just out of reach for me to pay up.  I held out the crisp twenty-dollar bill I'd earned babysitting Satan's offspring the night before.  That night of hell on earth had spawned a twenty-dollar stolen kiss and a strong chance of my being banned from the Jiffy lube forever.  Without meeting his eyes, I started my car.  The engine revved to life, what was left of it, and I inched slowly forward careful to stay in the tracks.

            "Lara," he called, as I would have exited the building, letting the scene behind me fade to black.

            I hit the brake and looked back.  Levi stood where I had left him, the twenty still clutched in his hand.  He strode forward and leaned in my window, one hand braced on the top of my car.

             "Don't you want your change?"  A puzzled frown arched his perfect brows.

            I was momentarily speechless.  My romantic imagination pictured him pulling me into his arms, telling me he couldn't live without me, and that we were destined to run the Jiffy lube together.

            "I'll be right back."  He walked to the register, rang up the amount, and pulled my change out of the drawer when it opened.  He quickly returned with $2.34 in his outstretched hand. 

            I automatically took the money, the seductress in the backseat yelling at me to throw it in his handsome face.  Better yet, stick it in the band of his sexy old jeans, she said.  Instead, I thanked him politely and drove away.