Driving home in my truck last night after dropping Amy's car off at the VW repair shop, hoping that the prognosis she receives today is that it's NOT the transmission, but just some minor leak that the repair guy is gonna fix with the wad of chewing gum that's starting to go stale in his mouth anyway:
"So how much have we spent on this car since you bought it, Aim?"
"Well, there was that switch thingie that went after we drove it through the carwash an hour after I bought it."
"How much was that?"
"About 600."
"600!? Jesus! I thought it was, like, 2."
"No, it was 6. Then there was that valve you picked up that had to be replaced. Then the starter switch. And then a couple weeks later the starter itself. And we got charged for the labour when they were looking to see what was wrong with the cruise control but didn't find anything."
[Simon, adding stuff in his head...]
"So we've spent almost two grand on the car since buying it just over a year ago."
"That's about right, yup."
"You know, I so like my GM truck right now. Only thing I've replaced is the windshield, like, four times. And that's just 'cause of all the highway driving I did the first two years."
"My GM truck was the same way before I sold it. Ten years and never a problem. That reminds me, I once put a bunch of sugar in a guy's gas tank back home when he pissed me off."
"Geez, remind me never to get on your bad side! What did he do that pissed you off enough to put sugar in his tank?"
"He just said some stuff about me, so I thought he deserved to have sugar in his gas tank."
[...pause...]
"I mean, it was true, but he had no business spreading that sort of thing around."
Ah, yes, the wrath of woman. Hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned, or some such phrase. That's a little scary.
Posted by: Mark | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 12:42 AM