That there are some women out there who know little about the mechanics of their vehicles? I am one of them. I can change an air filter, check my fluids and add as needed, put air in my tires; but beyond that I am useless. My van (Annie) and I have a good relationship, and she is very dependable and good to me; but on occasion, she needs professional care. I have always felt a little threatened by car mechanics. I think it stems from the way their eyes glaze over and then roll back in their heads a bit when I try to mimic the strange sound or behavior my baby is exhibiting. It makes me feel like they can tell me anything in the world is wrong (at whatever price they feel they can get away with charging), and I won’t know the difference. After losing my tailpipe in the Callahan Tunnel in Boston one day (a dreadful, scary sounding thing to happen inside a tunnel where you can’t pull over or do anything but keep on going, watching and hearing your tailpipe clanging down the road behind you and then disappear from view in the rearview mirror, all the while hoping no one will hit it and get a flat tire), I discovered Baron’s. Since I knew what the problem was and could explain it in terms he understood, Baron didn’t glaze over, fixed Annie’s problem quickly and at a very fair price. I felt secure, knowing I had found a mechanic I could trust.
Last week after my excursion with Debbie Clarke to visit Masconomet’s Burial site, I stopped at Market Basket. As I started heading home, I hit my brake and it went down to the floor, with only a bare amount of stopping power if I pushed really hard on the brake pedal. I crept home over the hilly and winding roads to Annisquam, rolled to a stop and parked. I immediately called Baron, who was getting ready to go on vacation, was overbooked and couldn’t see her, but did say it was my brake lines that had gone. He suggested I call Billy next door, who it turned out was also getting ready to go on vacation and couldn’t help. I didn’t know where to turn, so I asked Debbie for a suggestion. She recommended Linsky’s Service Station at 159 Maplewood Ave. I called them and reached Doris who told me to have Annie towed over and they would take a look and give me an estimate. I called AAA and they sent a couple of sweet guys from Tally’s over to tow her. Baron had already given me best and worst-case scenario estimates, so I had an idea of what I could be looking at, the worst case not being something I could manage. Later in the day Doris called to tell me that the two rear brake lines were gone, and very sweetly and almost apologetically told me it would cost $148.00, $2.00 less than the best case estimate Baron had given me. I was thrilled and told her to go ahead with the repairs.
My girl now stops, she was fixed quickly and at a price I could afford (and I believe a very fair price), and I felt so comfortable dealing with Doris and Linsky’s Service Station that I had to send out this kudos. Big up Linsky’s! And thanks. By the way, Linsky’s has been around since 1953, longer than me (not much, but still longer), so I’d say they have long proven themselves to many people to be a good, fair service station.