I’d been working at R&J Auto Repairs for nearly four years when she walked in. The garage was a grease-streaked haven for guys like us — rough, loud, and resistant to change. So when Roger introduced Samantha as the newest mechanic, the room froze.
“A girl mechanic?” Rick muttered. The others followed with jokes and snickers. Samantha said nothing. Ball cap low, overalls on, hands clearly experienced. She took the abuse silently — bad jobs, trash in her car, even being locked in the pit overnight. She showed up the next morning covered in dirt, pale but composed. No complaints. No tears. She just drove away. We thought she was gone.