ASEs, my eye!

Somebody made a reference to a Cheech and Chong bit in my dream, but it was just in passing. I was with a group of guys in the parking lot of a giant testing facility. We'd all gotten our renewal letters for the ASEs, the dreaded certifications for mechanics, upon which most of our jobs or future jobs hinged. People in the parking lot made small talk to ease the tension.

It had been five years since I'd gotten tested, and I didn't remember much of anything that might be on the test. Worse yet, the facility was brand new, and I was unfamiliar with the layout, so I was wandering around kind of aimlessly, unsure of where it was that I was supposed to be. 

I thought to make a phone call, but, as per dream protocols, I couldn't figure out how to work the payphone. I didn't have change, so I needed to dial in the number of a prepaid calling card, which I also couldn't remember and didn't have on me. I then realized that I had my cellphone with me (duh). 

I was going to call Chunky from the dealership, though I can't think of any reason why I'd have been doing that. He was the last person that would have any pre-test advice to give out, as he had never passed a single ASE. Although, I was able to navigate to my contacts, that's as far as it got. I couldn't figure out how to operate my phone to make a call. If this was indicative of the state of my memory and problem solving skill set, I was sunk for taking the ASEs.

I found myself walking down a path leading nowhere in particular, all the while the clock ticking towards test time. I spied Ernest Serrano, the Salad Bar Prophet from my cult days, walking down a different path, so I thought to follow him.

"You're here for the re-certs?" I asked.

"Sure, thing. We all have to do it," he replied.

It was true. There were certification tests for everything. He was there for the arborist test, where they test you on your knowledge of tree sap and the proper cutting angles for limb removal or tree felling. I had about as much chance of passing my automotive test as I did of passing this completely new and foreign area of specialty, so I contemplated just taking whatever test it was that he was taking. 

I showed up at the facility, where apparently they'd been waiting for me. I was seated in a complimentary wheelchair and wheeled into the building by one of the testing facility's guides. He wheeled me into the appropriate area for taking automotive tests. Darn, I wasn't going to get out of this after all. Oh, well, a fail is a fail, I thought, although I'd never failed an ASE in my 15 years of taking them.

Once I was seated in the appropriate spot, an unlikely perch atop a stack of metal milk crates, I searched my pockets for the all important No. 2 pencil. I had one, but it was pretty worn down, no eraser, bite marks, etc. As I was looking at it ruefully, I of course dropped it way down between the stacks of milk crates. 

I looked over at my guide, who was still with me, and he immediately produced a replacement. It wasn't a No. 2 pencil, but rather a mechanical pencil, which I also promptly dropped between the milk crate columns. No problem. My guide simply moved the person in front of me by putting a dolly under the giant stack of milk crates and tilting the whole rickety pillar forward a few inches so I could reach down and get it. 

I sat there holding my mechanical pencil, hoping it at least had an eraser, because I'd be needing it. I was still contemplating tree sap and limb removal as my dream drew to a close, the test still looming. It was another non-eventful dream, that mostly consisted of anxiety over my non-preparedness. At least I'd managed to get there in time for the test. And I wasn't naked, so that's a plus.