I am having some troubles, oil troubles. It seems that my car is leaking oil :( and as I am told, a car should not be leaking oil, something is wrong. In my opinion, one of the best reasons to make a male friend here in the Windy City is to have someone available who can do the guy duty and check the oil. The entire reason CPA and I even happened is because my oil needed to be checked! What can I say other than I am very traditional in my sense of car roles...men are meant to get under the hood and get their hands dirty, and women are meant to stand to the side handing them the right tools (um what's a widget?). And I find that while I am a very advanced and independent girl, I like my girly ways, meaning, I like to be taken care of.
I guess this is why so many girls end up marrying men like their fathers. They crave the security, the stability, and the protective nature their dads have provided them all their lives. And I can't blame them. The older I get the more and more I notice and seek men who remind me of my dad.
Danny sure does. Danny is certainly insane and nothing like my father in many ways, but in the ways it matters, he is entirely like my father. The number one way Danny reminds me of my Dad is in his concern for my safety. My Dad has coached me since I was born to be safe and smart: to have street smarts, to have a winter tool-kit in my car, to always drive with a half a tank or more of gas, to not talk on the phone while driving, to always be aware of my surroundings, to always lock my doors, to frequently change my online passwords, to use a landline when giving out personal info, etc, etc. Danny is the same way albeit more extreme. He insists I call him when I get home from my evening yoga classes or book meetings. He waits in his car in the street until he sees the light come on in my apartment, he forces me to get out of bed and lock the third (is that really necessary) lock behind him, he scolds me every time I use a credit card instead of cash, he makes sure I unplug my internet connection when not using, he scares me into getting in for regular health check-ups, and on and on. Just like my dad, Danny is concerned for my general safety and well-being in a very serious way. There is comfort in knowing that if anything ever happens to me, Danny will be the first to know and with-in hours, and he would be the one to find me. Its just too bad no one knows Danny. There are other ways that Danny reminds me of my dad, but generally its because of their shared concern for my welfare and financial state.
A cute story my dad told me while he was helping me wax my car, is how when he and my mom first started dating, my dad used a special chrome polish on her tires to get the goo off. Not sure if he was trying to impress her, or if he was just a bit OCD. I guess my mom was a smart lady and must have assumed that a man who would polish and take care of your tires would be a man who would polish and take care of you in life. When I had my oil leak (must be the year) I obviously called Danny. Although he is entirely detained this week on a tax deadline, he offered to come over to look under my car and fill my oil. And he did just that. He came over (from way out of his way) and checked my oil, filled it up, and looked for the problem area. He then told me he would call his mechanic and decide what to do next. He kissed me goodnight and that was that, back to taxes. My dad polishing my mom's tires, is Danny filling my oil...it tells me that this is someone I can count on, this is someone I want around to polish my life.
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