Some mechanics will charge you based on how you look/dress.

Not a scam but rather a form of stereotyping.

For a period in my life I worked two jobs. During the day I had an office job in a Ministry in the Government and during the evening I worked pizza delivery.

I drove a beat-up, old pickup that was over twenty years old and looked it. At some point in time I was badly overdue in terms of an oil change. I had a decent mechanic, Doc, who would not only change my oil but also my air, fuel and oil filters AND fix any minor issues that needed attention. For all this he would charge $150 TT ($21 US). This was an exceptionally good rate compared to the price and quality of service I got from all the other mechanics.

Sadly, Doc began having health problems and I was forced to look for a new mechanic. I was informed of a father-son mechanic team who were known for great service and affordable rates. I took some time off my office job and headed towards their location probably looking a lot like this:

I was in some of my best threads, sporting a new haircut and pair of glasses, full of confidence and dare I say, looking quite dashing. I did not intend to impress the mechanics, I was not even aware of how I looked. I was simply having a good fashion day.

I introduced myself to the mechanics and explained my situation. I gave it my all to be as friendly, polite and sociable as I could and even offered to help bring over tools for them as they worked on my vehicle. During all this time I couldn't help but notice they were being rigidly formal and courteous with me, constantly referring to me as ‘sir,’ avoiding idle chatter and not showing any particular interest in me or my background.

When they were finished, I went to the father mechanic and queried the cost. I was expecting $200 at most, maybe even as high as $250 seeing that they finished my job so speedily. However when I heard him nonchalantly mutter $500, my jaw dropped.

‘Five Hundred?!’ I cried, ‘How come so much?’

‘We changed your oil, the air, fuel and oil filters,’ he explained lifelessly, ‘Aired your tires and eh…changed your gearbox and differential oil……that’s full service.’

‘I didn’t want full service,’ I cried, ‘I just wanted my oil and filters changed.’

‘Oil and filters changed?’ he replied almost stupidly, ‘That’s full service. Full service is $500. Isn’t that right Jason?’

He directed that question to his son who was in the process of jacking up someone’s car. ‘Yup,’ Jason replied monotonously without glancing, ‘Ask anybody here.’

There was a silence. I realized there was nothing I could do. I should’ve queried the cost before I allowed them to work on my pickup. I paid them their money and left, feeling thoroughly cheated and irritated, telling myself I would never do business with them again.

Some weeks later I’m off to start my shift doing pizza delivery on a busy Friday evening. I’m nowhere near looking my best as I’m sporting a washed out and stained ‘Mario’s Pizza’ shirt, a beaten up red cap, a baggy and threadbare trousers and I’m in dire need of a haircut. My appearance was similar to the photo below but far more scruffy.

I pressed on the clutch pedal, only to find that it was slow to rise up from the floor. Clearly my clutch had a bad fluid leak. If my vehicle broke down I would have to pay a fortune to hire a wrecker and quite possibly miss my shift. I saw that I wasn’t far from the father and son garage so I slowly guided the pickup into their compound.

They saw me looking frantic and disheveled in my old pizza delivery clothes and immediately came to my assistance. I cut the pleasantries short and informed them of the clutch problem and how my manager would ‘have my ass if I took a day off on a Friday.’

They told me to calm down, that it wasn’t a serious matter. They began to jokingly tease me that they wouldn’t work on my pickup unless I brought a free pizza for them. They then proceeded to engage in idle chatter regarding fast food vs home cooked meals as they jacked up the pickup and put it on stands. I then realized that they didn’t recognize me with this shoddy uniform. They looked so much at ease and were so much friendlier than when I last visited them. Then the son got into his car, drove off and returned with a clutch slave cylinder and fluid and in two-twos they had my pickup back in order.

I was quite impressed and grateful for the speedy service. However I cringed knowing that I would probably be slapped another $500 fee. I queried to the father mechanic as to how much my bill was and he said to his son, ‘How much you pay for that stuff Jason?’

‘About two hundred,’ Jason replied.

‘Give us $250 pizza man. It’s your lucky day. Just make sure and bring us a pizza when you get the chance.’

‘Of course!’ I lied.

They barely charged for the labor.

In fact they were much more fond of me as a salt-of-the-Earth, minimum wage earning, slave to the customer, regular Joe, plying his trade to make a living. They saw me as one of their own and extended a helping hand to someone who they believed roughed it out in life. Had they known that this was actually my second job and I had a comfortable office job in a Government Ministry, I would’ve seen a much different outcome.

So I learned a decent hack in life when dealing with mechanics and various other tradesmen. I don’t work pizza delivery anymore but whenever I go to see those mechanics or go to meet plumbers, electricians, builders etc, I wear that old Mario’s Pizza uniform to counteract against their built in stereotypes. Doing this I find myself getting good rates, great service and making new friends much better than if I were wearing office wear and a fancy tie.

C’est la vie!

Edit 10.01.22. Those mechanics tend to scheme but you can find a way around them. They pale in comparison to the illegal scams some of our fast food restaurants attempt on a daily basis. Click here to read about it.