I would never trust a mechanic who drove a leased car.
If he’s buying a new car, should problems arise, it would serve his best interests to attend to them. Some would necessitate that attention be immediate, while others might be borne of a more cautionary consideration.
If the mechanic owned the car, or were actually in the process of purchasing it, he would be into the car for the long haul, as opposed to someone who is leasing it and would be perfectly content if their shitbucket of a long-term rental didn’t catch fire within the twenty-four months / 24,000 miles they are legally bound to keep it.
As someone who actually owns a car I genuinely intend on running into the ground, I want my mechanic to understand things from my perspective.
I would not choose to have my mouth poked and prodded by someone who claims never to have had a cavity.
I would also not feel entirely confident seeing an ophthalmologist who didn’t sport at the very least a pair of bi-focals.
Nor would I feel as if I were in good hands with a urologist who had never personally and intimately been bathed in the enlightenment found only in the rectal catharsis offered by a prostate exam.
In keeping with the spirit of the aforesaid,
I would actually be far more comforted if my therapist was known to be susceptible to periodic, random excursions into the Dark Kingdom of Cerebral Guano.
Providing, of course, they don’t maintain dual citizenship.