This “worst” story is more about the customers than the shop itself.

At my regular shop there’s a girl who works behind the counter, along with the usual characters one can expect to see working at an auto parts store. She would probably never know who I was outside of the store, but we’re friendly and she usually can help me with any sort of convoluted project I have.

On more than one occasion, some guy walks in, drops a greasy part on the counter, and her perky bubbly voice says “Hi there, what can I do for you?”

As he says the words, “I need to talk to one the MEN about this one,” the temperature suddenly drops a few degrees as those in-the-know smirk at each other. She bops her head back and forth and steps aside as one of the superior and more knowledgeable man-type clerks comes out to assist, and starts taking care of the customer.

Without fail, the clerk then says to the Just A Girl clerk, “Hmm, you know, I’m not quite sure on this one, got any ideas?” which was met with full blown interrogation on par with the courtroom scene in My Cousin Vinnie, along the lines of “Well I don’t know - it depends if he has the X engine or the Y. Does your VIN end in an odd number? If so, it has the (whatever) style gaskets so you’ll need to buy some extra permatex - make sure it’s silcone free if (variable) happened.. Oh, did you want This brand or That brand? One of them is more compatible with your engine, but I need to know how many amps your wiper motor pulls when the brights are on....”

After that, it’s a silent gamble wondering if the guy picks up his parts and leaves in embarassment, or turns red, apologizes, and starts over on the right foot.