Slow Day at the Garage (hypno)

The one thing that sucks about working in a garage in the middle of nowhere are days like these, Brian thought. Brian had worked as the cashier of this independent garage for about 6 months, trying to pick up enough tips so that he could help out in back. But, since the garage was on the outskirts of town, no one knew it was there. Hell, I would never have found the place if I hadn't been going to an interview. Brian's card had broken down outside the small company, and Jack had been the one they called out.

Jack was a cool guy, though. Brian had been moping because the interview had ended badly, and this his car went kaput. Thankfully, Jack had fixed it up no charge and even offered Brian a job. It wasn't Brian's first choice, but he needed a job badly enough that he'd taken him up on it. Now, he sat for a good portion of the day doing nothing, hoping for customers to show up. What few the garage had were incredibly loyal, bringing in even super-minor things to fix, but Brian didn't know how Jack kept the business afloat.

"Hey Brian, anyone needing you?" Jack yelled from the back.

"No Jack. All quiet out here."

"Then c'mon back, would you? I could use a hand on Mr. Hammond's car."

Brian slipped off the crisp shirt Jack required for working the counter, revealing a ratty tank top he could get dirty. "Hey Jack, where do you need me?"

"Oh, various places my boy, but I think first I need you to hold the light for me."

"Sure." Brian stepped under the car on the lift and hefted the flashlight.

"Nice to have someone to talk to back here, kid. You don't know how deathly quiet it can get back here."

"I think I do, Jack. It's just as quiet in front and you say every day."

"Do I? I guess that when you're having fun tinkering the days can start to run together. I mean, it's hard to keep moments separate when you're sitting around, doing nothing important."


"Everything sort of washes together. There's nothing really to do, so you just start to focus on one thing. It could be the clock ticking, or the radio playing, or even someone just rambling on, but what it is becomes hard to get yourself out of that state. You get totally stuck in that focus, like you're stuck in warm goo."

"Yuh-yeah," Brian said, his mind fogging over.

And that warm good just feels so good that you relax into it. It's a lazy day, there's nothing to do, so just relax. That's it. So good to relx and listen. Nothing else to do. Listening is the only thing. Everything relxing. World going away. Words are all that's left. Words you must obey."

"O-bey," Brian said, his mind empty.

Jack smiled. With the help of his fortune to keep his garage open, Jack could indulge his two passions in life: tinkering and hypnosis. He'd started just hypnotizing his customers, but there hadn't been enough of them to satisfy him, even when he made them helpless to fix their own cars. So he'd set up a lot of interviews with his little corporate puppet and sabotaged a lot of cars before Brian came along. The boy was such a hypno pushover that the first test, flashing the flashlight in alternating eyes "accidentally" tranced him. Now, every day Brian spent half his hours doing everything Jack instructed.

But first I have a car to finish, Jack thought. "Brian, I think it's time for a little show. You remember that, don't you?"

"Yes sir," Brian droned.

"Then you better get to it," Jack ordered.

Brian walked over to the corner of the shop, grabbed the pole there and began to dance provocatively.

Simple work and a beautiful show. Man, slow days at the garage are the best.