My mechanic is a right-winger

This post is part of the 100 Days Project

Day 37

My mechanic is one of my favourite service providers.  On days when I have to leave my car for repair he drives me to work while telling hilarious, off-colour stories about his sexual exploits.  He explains any weird noise my car makes on the way, in plain language and without the aid of diagrams.  
One time he came to my apartment building to diagnose the problem with my car alarm.  Said alarm was beeping like a dying puppy in the middle of a 60-car garage and the car was immobilised.  He couldn't fix the alarm but recommended a couple of companies to tow it and stop the noise.  Problem solved and at a surprisingly reasonable cost.
The only thing that gets my mechanic more enthusiastic than cars and sex is politics.  We had a conversation on the drive to work once about why I think tax-funded infra-structure is what makes a country a good place to live.  It was then I realised he was a raving rightie.  And a Whale Oil blog afficionado.  Argh.  It all made so much sense, but not in a good way.  
The next time he drove me to work he told me he'd been banned from Whale Oil and, mind awash with visions of unspeakable linguistic violence, I insisted the he shut up about it.  It was cowardly, in a way, but I knew I'd never get past it and he's only the second mechanic I've met who treats me like a person instead of a vagina attached to a wallet.  There is a conspicuous lack of porno on his premises.  This is not to be sneezed at.
Next time I pass the garage which is a bit more than a block from my place, I'll have to ask what he thinks of the current political scandal.  Some corner of my heart hopes he's experienced some kind of epiphany, but more likely this will simply be a chance for both of us to put the boot in. Politics - it's a rough kind of love.
PS - he's really very good.  If you want his details, let me know.