GETTING IN TOUCH WITH YOUR FEMININE SIDE
Published: 23 June, 2022
I must confess, I am not just writing for Aftermarket these days. I struck up a conversation with the Editor of our local paper at a chamber of commerce event a while back, well, to be more honest, I’ve more or less been talking her ear off at various local business events for years.
I kept chipping away, proffering copies of this wonderful publication, pointing out my place in it, and how highly regarded I am by the Editor here. Eventually, I wore her down, and talked her into a regular column. My thinking was that it would be good to educate the readership about how a modern garage functions, and how such an establishment can help drivers with their automotive problems. She thought this was a great idea.
I’ve looked at a range of topics, a bit like I do here, but without so many technical terms, and awkward words that will trip up the layman. Actually my pieces have gotten more ambitious. I’ve started to look at broader issues and how they are
reflected in the motor sector. Across a number of industries in recent months, the issue of staff shortages has come to a head. Obviously for us, it has been a problem for some time.
One of the ways to address a staff shortage is to widen participation. We are, for the most part, perceived as a male industry. If you are short on people, only drawing from half the available people would seem to be short-sighted.
So, I wrote a piece on the important role women play in the sector. I even went as far as to interview Mrs P, as she performs a major role in the garage. Between the two of us we discussed the many ways women help businesses like ours.
I closed off the article with quite a long parting thought from me, offering my observations on how participation could be addressed. I was ever-so pleased with it. When it came out, I thought I would still be proud of it. However, when I reviewed this long stream of unconsciousness from myself printed on the page I realised that, with a stunning lack of self-awareness, I had just mansplained the whole thing. I was a little concerned about this, so I called the newspaper and expressed my concerns to the Editor, but as far as she was concerned, I was an industry professional, from an industry full of men, saying that we need more women, and that was okay with her.
Well, I’m not going to be doing so much writing this month, as I am quite excited to be going to a motor industry trade show again. With the UK Garage and Bodyshop Event on at the NEC this month, I am booking myself out of the workshop for a day, and heading to Birmingham. I always enjoy getting over to these things, as I always feel I learn a lot about new tech and methods when I am able to get up-close and personal with it all. If you see me there, then the cartoon at the top is clearly getting very life!
- Accept all cookies?
I was feeling peckish at the end of the day yesterday – well it was nearly closing time, so I headed for the biscuit tin. A hobnob or a digestive or some sort of cookie will usually give me another 20 minutes, and perhaps an extra inch within my overalls around the waist, but I digress. However, when I got to our little kitchen, the cupboard was locked. This was a double-surprise to me as last week it was your average common-or-garden kitchen unit. However, come Monday it sported a shiny new heavy-duty padlock. This was Mrs P’s way of telling me that the diet she was making me go on was non-negotiable.
- Stock, aching and what a man
I had a visit from an old associate earlier this week – High Street Ken. He’s a local car dealer who was, until quite recently, based on our local high street, until the value of the plot in terms of putting in flats became to obvious to ignore, and he sold up and moved his operation to an edge-of-town site like mine. After all, with the internet, you don’t really need a shop window like he had. Besides, he owned the building outright so my rich friend has become richer. Apart from the location of his business, it was ironic that he really is called Ken, in that his wife’s name is Barbara…
- How to disappear completely
I’m not here. This isn’t happening. Or, I might as well not be – No, really. Over the last few days, here at Parkit Motors we noticed a steep drop-off on fresh customers making enquiries. We continued to be booked up, but the backlog we had before Christmas seemed to start dissipating. Initially, I put this down to better time management on the part of the team, and everyone completing their jobs faster. Then I looked at the jobsheets, and realised that everything was happening at the same speed as usual, sometimes slower actually. Just leafing through these and looking at the times logged on some of these very simple tasks, words will certainly need to be had with…Arthur…oh that’s awkward, moving on.
- The Holly and the Arthur
Christmas is upon us again here at Parkit Motors. A time of joy, the Season of Goodwill, twinkly lights and a tree in Reception, winter checks reminders decked out in red going out via email, and the staff Christmas party to arrange. Well, I’m not too sure about some of this. To be honest, with the rising cost of energy, and everything else I think we will have to pass on it this year. No, don’t call me Scrooge, I’m not completely stone-hearted. We could probably afford sausage rolls with a sprig of holly in to give to the staff before we close on Christmas Eve. Maybe a glass or two of Mulled Wine too, for those who are not driving…
- To the manner born?
I recently had a visit from someone I knew when I was a teenager who also ended up in the trade; Local classic car dealer Piers Bonnet. Of course, I know what you are thinking; “His name is Bonnet? Of course he was destined for this business.” Well, you’d think that, except it is pronounced ‘Bon-nay’ as in ‘Bon-nay Prince Char-lay’. Yes, it’s all a bit Keeping Up Appearances, but who am I to tell him (well, more specifically his parents years ago) how to pronounce their own name. It could have been worse; I seem to remember being told they nearly went double-barrelled as the Morgan-Bonnets. He really would have been doomed to be a classic car dealer then.
