Marc
Went to a party last night where we saw a cop actually say "Got'cha!" as he nabbed this kid for being underage. Thought that was a bit sadistic, you know. It wasn't necessary, and seeing as how the ticket's $250, it wasn't cheap. Did he really need to emphasize his success with a "got'cha!"? Probably not.
You know how Dads are always kind of handy and fix-it-up-ity and stuff? They never have problems when their cars are broke. They never worry about leaky faucets and household projects, right? My car was weird these past few days, something was wrong with the muffler. So, I was going to go home and get it fixed. Dad knows a guy who does it cheap (don't they all?). But, I got in this independent mood yesterday and was all kinds of like "fuck it!", I'll do it my damn self. So, I get my car over to the Meineke shop, walk inside, set down my keys and say, "I just called about bringing the Honda in."
"Okay, what seems to be the problem with it? Exhaust?" the man in the jumpsuit asks (very politely, usually car people scare me).
I stare him straight in the eye, and say, "Well ... it looks like a car, but it sounds like a motorcycle."
"Uhhh ... okay." He writes something down on the clipboard, takes my key, and says he'll have it done in an hour. (Note: he did give me a weird look after I said that - boo)
My roommates tell me that I'm not supposed to admit to car people that I don't know what's going wrong with my sweet ride. Fuck that. I had no clue what was wrong with it. I'm not going to go in and be sly and say, "Yeah, I think it's the left nut (snicker). Wait ... maybe it's the tailpipe (snicker)."
Annie, are you okay? Are you okay Annie?
Went to a party last night where we saw a cop actually say "Got'cha!" as he nabbed this kid for being underage. Thought that was a bit sadistic, you know. It wasn't necessary, and seeing as how the ticket's $250, it wasn't cheap. Did he really need to emphasize his success with a "got'cha!"? Probably not.
You know how Dads are always kind of handy and fix-it-up-ity and stuff? They never have problems when their cars are broke. They never worry about leaky faucets and household projects, right? My car was weird these past few days, something was wrong with the muffler. So, I was going to go home and get it fixed. Dad knows a guy who does it cheap (don't they all?). But, I got in this independent mood yesterday and was all kinds of like "fuck it!", I'll do it my damn self. So, I get my car over to the Meineke shop, walk inside, set down my keys and say, "I just called about bringing the Honda in."
"Okay, what seems to be the problem with it? Exhaust?" the man in the jumpsuit asks (very politely, usually car people scare me).
I stare him straight in the eye, and say, "Well ... it looks like a car, but it sounds like a motorcycle."
"Uhhh ... okay." He writes something down on the clipboard, takes my key, and says he'll have it done in an hour. (Note: he did give me a weird look after I said that - boo)
My roommates tell me that I'm not supposed to admit to car people that I don't know what's going wrong with my sweet ride. Fuck that. I had no clue what was wrong with it. I'm not going to go in and be sly and say, "Yeah, I think it's the left nut (snicker). Wait ... maybe it's the tailpipe (snicker)."
Annie, are you okay? Are you okay Annie?
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