Paul, the Small Town Mechanic

It had been quite the trip so far. I had started driving at 6.00 AM this morning. And I was exhausted. I was moving from St. Louis to San Francisco for the job of a lifetime. I had been so proud that the company I was already working for, wanted me to apply for this job in their head office. And I loved the idea of living in San Francisco. So I jumped at the chance.

I still had to do a few online interviews, but it wasn’t long until I was packing up my life in St. Louis, so very excited for this new chapter in my life. I had worked so hard to get to this point and I truly felt like this was a dream coming true. I was only 27 but it was amazing to see my hard work paying off.

When I started the drive this morning, I was still so excited. I had all of my stuff in the trunk and the backseat and I had booked a hotel in Denver. In two days, I could easily do this move by myself. The company had provided an apartment for me, which honestly looked amazing from the pictures and was in a great location.

The excitement wore off after a few hours. 800 miles (almost 1300 km) I was driving on the first day, so by the time I had passed the border from Kansas into Colorado I was quite tired. Then again, I knew Denver wouldn’t be much longer.

When it got to 5.00 PM, I was getting real hungry. For a few miles I contemplated taking an early exit and finding a diner somewhere to have something to eat before finishing the last of the drive. I was so done with the straight forward drive on the 70, and hearing my stomach growl, I went for it. The next exit.

Exit 352. Kiowa. Kiowa, Colorado. It sounded exotic to me. My sense of adventure kicked in and I started to feel energized. After twenty minutes of driving through empty fields, this feeling however faded. Where was this Kiowa?

I was about to turn around when I saw the big white water tower with Kiowa on it. I smiled. Here we go. This was bound to be a special little town, so far from everything. They must have some sort of eating establishment. I was already picturing a Mom and Pop, homey type dinner with a shouty waitress with big hair.

But then I noticed the smoke coming up from the engine.

“Oh no”, I said out loud.

I immediately parked in the grass on the side of the road. I was exactly by the water tower. I looked at my dashboard and only now I saw the Check engine-light. That had not been on earlier, I was sure of it.

Smoke continued to billow up and I felt like I had to get out. I opened the cover and of course even more smoke came out. I let out a big sigh. I saw one farm not too far away, but apart from that it was green fields as far as the eye could see. There was still some leftover snow even though it was May, and a warm 80 degrees (27 Celsius). We were quite high up in the mountains though.

Once most of the smoke had gone, I lifted the engine cover and I saw where smoke was coming from. Of course I had no idea what to do about it. I was not that type of guy. I knew where some of the things went, but smoke coming from the actual engine… I wouldn’t know where to start.

I stepped back and looked through my phone for the number for AAA. I looked back at my car, the car I’d had for about 6 years. It was such a nice car, and I’d never had doubts about bringing it with me to San Francisco. This long trip may have been too much for it.

Just as I found the number for AAA, I heard a car coming from my right. It had been a while since I had seen another car. I didn’t think much about it at first until I started to get a suspicion which was correct. It was the county sheriff. The car parked right next to me.

A bald, white man in his 50s stepped out of the vehicle, his belly ahead of him by quite a few inches.

“Well, this doesn’t look like your lucky day!”, he said.

I chuckled.

“I’ve had better”, I admitted.

“I’m Sheriff Williams, Elbert County Sheriff’s Department”, he said sternly as he shook my hand.

“I’m Troy”, I said.

Williams walked over to my car and had a short look at the engine.

“No worries, Troy, I’m going to drive you to the best repair shop in town, they’ll even pick this baby up for ya”, Williams said.

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Paul will fix this, I’m sure!”

I smiled as he grabbed my shoulder and walked me to his car.

“So what are you doing all the way out here anyway?”

I chuckled.

In the car I told him about my move to San Francisco, the stopover in Denver and about my decision to stop somewhere for food.

“Well, you wouldn’t want to be standing on the side of the highway, so you may have made a good decision! And I can very much recommend Patty’s diner!”

I smiled.

Sheriff Williams proudly told me all about his town right up to the point that he parked in front of Townes & Son Auto Repair.

“Paul is the best mechanic in Kiowa. His Dad Walter really made this shop an established name in town, and Paul started working here when he was 18. Right out of school.”

The sheriff wouldn’t stop talking, but I was happy to listen.

“And he’s stepped in so well since his Dad passed, it’s really quite admirable.”

Williams opened the door to the shop and a little bell gave away that we were here.

“I’ll be right out!”, I heard from somewhere in the back.

I followed the sheriff inside and at first I just saw the counter. But behind the counter you could look into the actual shop. I saw a young man bent forward over a car engine. He wore a white tanktop with some black stains on it, and a blue pair of overalls, the sleeves tied securely around his waist. His light brown hair, his facial hair and muscular arms, made me think he would be quite a sexy guy. Not something I saw coming at all.

“It’s the sheriff!”

Paul looked up, facing the store. He and I made eye contact.

“Hey”, I said quietly and waved.

Paul got a huge smile on his face. The dimples in his cheeks made my dick stir.

“Hey”, he said as he made his way over to the counter.

Paul was sexy as fuck. As he walked over to me, he did not break eye contact, but I took quick glances down and noticed his beefy chest and the nipples pointing through the fabric of his tanktop. I was stumped for words.

“Hey Paul”, the sheriff suddenly said.

“Oh, hi Carl”, Paul said, facing the sheriff’s way.

“I found this guy on the side of the road with smoke coming out of his engine”, sheriff Carl said.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”, Paul faced back my way.

“Thanks”, I said.

As the sheriff spoke for me most of the time, it was hard to miss Paul’s looks over at me every now and again. Maybe I read too much into them, but I felt some chemistry. Though it wouldn’t surprise me if Paul was just being nice and hot, and I wanted to be more.

It was decided that the sheriff would take me to Patty’s diner, Paul would go to the water tower to pick up my car. He promised to try and fix it immediately so I could continue my journey to Denver tonight. I felt honored that Paul was trying to make it work for me, considering it must be quite near his closing time.

I thanked Paul profusely for going to pick up my car. I gave him my keys and the sheriff drove me to the diner. Paul promised to find me there and pick me back up.

The diner was a nice little place. Patty was loud and had big hair, just like I pictured it. I had a burger and it was surprisingly decent. I sat by myself in the booth and looked outside. San Francisco seemed real far away all of a sudden. I had gotten stranded in Kiowa, Colorado. I had wanted so badly to be in that nice hotel in Denver, and dream about seeing my San Francisco apartment the next day. But the longer it took for Paul to get here, the less that seemed like a possibility.

When I looked around in the diner, I realized just what a small town this was. Everyone seemed to know each other. My parents fled Taiwan when I was still young and got me to grow up in Chicago. I had always felt more comfortable in a big city. I noticed people looked my way, either because they realized there was someone they didn’t know, or maybe because my Asian looks made me stand out from this so far entirely white crowd.

I decided to not make it into an issue that I was possibly going to arrive in San Francisco later than expected. I might have to spend a night in a nearby motel. I had two extra days before I had my first day on the job. I was going to enjoy this adventure. This would make an amazing story once it was over. Or, if against all odds I would be able to continue my journey tonight, not that amazing a story where I sat in a diner for a few hours.

When Paul finally entered the diner, he wore a tight shirt and ditto jeans. I immediately spotted him, and oddly, he didn’t immediately see me. He was greeted by several of the patrons. He walked up to the counter and asked Patty. I saw his jeans-clad butt from the side and hoped I could picture that view again later. Paul was incredibly handsome. The women in the diner all seemed to perk up. He either didn’t notice or was just so used to it he didn’t care.

Patty pointed in my direction as I raised my hand. Paul’s smile reappeared on his face as he walked towards me for the second time that day, and I loved watching him do just that. He sat across from me in the booth.

“Troy!”, he said cheerfully.

His strong, hairy forearms rested on the table in between us. I could see his chest hair pop out and he looked incredibly hot.

“Hi Paul”, I said.

I realized my smile was beaming and I was starting to feel warm.

Just as I felt like the silence had been too long, Patty appeared at our table.

“Could you get me a beer, please, Patty?”, Paul asked her.

“Of course, sweetheart!”

“You don’t mind if I have one beer before I drive you, right?”, Paul asked me.

“No problem”, I said.

“Do you want anything else, sweetheart?”, Patty addressed me with her thundering voice.

“I’m good, thanks!”

As Patty left our table, I looked back at Paul. He smiled at me again, the dimples reappearing.

“So”, I started. “How is my car doing?”

Paul bit his lip but continued to smile.

“I am so sorry. I need to replace the cylinder head. It got cracked. I tried to fix it, but with your journey tomorrow still ahead, I couldn’t get it solid enough. I really don’t want you to be stranded again tomorrow!”

“I get it”, I said, resigning myself to the motel.

“And I don’t have one in my shop. I’d have to get it from Denver, but the place is closed until tomorrow morning.”

I had definitely taken this possibility into account, so I didn’t feel too disappointed.

“I can drive you to your hotel in Denver and then drive your car to you when I fix it?”

I knew Denver was still an hour away. Paul driving that back and forth twice just for me felt like too much.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that”, I said, “how would you get back?”

“I’ll… I’ll ask someone to come pick me up.”

I wasn’t sure if this was still small town niceness or something else was going on.

“Paul, if you could just drop me off at a nearby motel, I’ll be just fine.”

“I… there is no motel.”

He chuckled awkwardly.

“I might as well drive you to Denver.”

I hadn’t thought of the possibility that there would be no motel.

“Oh.”

“I… I can offer you to sleep over at mine? I have a pretty good apartment. You can have the bed!”

I felt myself getting warm again.

To be continued…