Caterwauling

So I’m at the repair shop today. And let’s not talk about my meltdown in which I burst straight into tears with a simple, “Fuck me. Just fuck me. God damn it, haven’t you given me enough to fucking deal with this week? Do I really need this shit?”

Five minutes prior …

Mechanic: Did you know your exhaust pipe is cracked?

Me: What’s that do?

Mechanic: You’re kidding. Right? (eyes me warily)

Me: Can’t we just remove it, like an appendix?

Mechanic: (realizes I really AM serious)

Mechanic: That thing you drive is called a car.

Me: I’m with you so far.

Mechanic: And see here? (points) That’s your exhaust pipe. There’s the crack in it.

Me: Well, whoda thunk it?

Mechanic: Can’t you hear the loud sound your car always makes?

Me: My car makes noise? I didn’t notice.

Mechanic: Just how loud do you turn up your music anyway?

Me: I have earbuds. I have no need to listen to anything, and definitely not to a passenger when I have one. All hail the iPod.

Mechanic: Sometimes you can do a personality assessment in just one conversation.

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So this part is going to cost all of $980 because it has to be special-ordered from my dealer. Hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa. Funny!

I left in disbelief. What could I do? I needed to get to work, because just what I need is to go put on my happy face when I’m losing my cookies.

But first, I went to the DMV for more torture, pain and hell. (And again left empty-handed). But in the midst of it, the phone rang.

Mechanic: OK, you can pay $980 and get the part next week, or I can get a used one, have my guy weld it and you pay $245.

Me: I fucking LOVE you!!!

Mechanic: Not only did I anticipate that you’d say that, but also in those words.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 16th, 2006 at 8:04 PM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.