I got my oil changed last week, and the entire 30 minutes I spent in the waiting room was accompanied by a “beep-beep” noise that happened every 10 seconds.
In that same waiting room, a woman was talking to another woman about her new born baby and said, “I just want to take her right now.” Sure, she’s probably joking, but isn’t that a weird thing to say? I’m sure it’s meant to be flattering in a oh-you’re-baby-is-so-cute kind of way, but I’m thinking she should just say, “oh you’re baby is so cute,” and leave it at that.
Once the possible kidnapper left, the mother spent the rest of her time loudly talking to her baby; I think it was an effort to get me into a conversation about how cute her baby is…it didn’t work.
The dude changing my oil of course had other things he thought needed to be done, but his sales pitch was terrible. He literally said, “well you could probably do this, this, and this as well.”Sir, I could “probably do” a lot of things, so thank you for the incredibly unhelpful suggestion. Unfortunately, just like I’m not going to become an astronaut or the first female president, I also won’t have you go ahead and fix the things you think I could “probably do.”
One of the other mechanics found out where I work and proceeded to tell me a story, a story I never indicated to him that I wanted to hear. The story was about how a judge made him go to 3 months of anger management, because he was defending his daughter by slamming her abusive ex-boyfriend’s head into a car bumper. I hate to break it you, but you’re getting worked up while you’re telling me a story about something that happened 10 years ago…I think you probably have at least a little bit of an anger management issue that 3 months of classes clearly didn’t fix.
I didn’t realize so much stupid shit could happen to me in a span of 30 minutes. I honestly walked out of that business in shock, and with a strong desire to start changing my own oil.
You are all in luck this week, because I’m gonna tell you a story from my childhood: I can’t even remember what my brother and I were trying to fix, but we were on our front porch with some super glue. Now, we were old enough (I was probably 13 or 14 and my brother was probably 15 or 16) to be using super glue, but clearly I should have been the one in charge of the actual gluing. My brother starts gluing, what was probably a fucking light saber or something, and ends up getting some on his hands. Getting super glue on your skin is super unfortunate, no one wants it, but this genius decides he’s going to somehow shake it off of his hands. Surprisingly, it comes off of his hands, but goes straight onto my fucking face and into my eyes! My eyes were literally super glued closed! It quickly went from, “ha ha you got super glue on your hands” to, “Oh God, what have you done?!”
I literally almost ran a woman over this week. You’re probably thinking that I’m a bad driver, when really this woman is just a complete moron. She literally walked across a busy intersection when we had a green light. I was going 45 mph and she just walked out in front of me with about 15 feet between her and my car. She wasn’t even phased by the fact that multiple cars had to slam on their brakes to avoid killing her. Hell, one car didn’t even slow down, and she just kept on strutting her stupid ass across the street.
There was a sign on the highway that said, “guardrail damage ahead.” I’m not really sure what the point of that sign is. I guess it’s just a warning, like, “hey, if you’re gonna crash, don’t do it up here, because some asshole already did and there’s nothing preventing you from going into the oncoming traffic on the other side…”