Thursday, August 07, 2008

Doesn't Make For A Good Story...

I awoke this morning ready for battle.  I drank extra coffee because I figured that the caffeine couldn't hurt and the extra pressure on the bladder might give me more of an irritated sort of demeanor.  I wore my "good" jeans.

And, in the end, none of it was really necessary.  Not really.  

The recent situation involving my new car and its suddenly showing tire wear consistent with a '75 Chevette that had never seen the inside of a garage in its entire life had me just about crazy.  I was further irked to receive an estimate for repairs given that I have already put several people's kids through at least a semester of college at the service center and thought it was high time they ate the cost of their "workmanship."  I stated clearly and without reservation that I would not be paying for their recommended tire replacement and alignment and that was that.

They, in turn, agreed to "take a look at it."  Given that, when the cost was coming out of my account the tires were deadly weapons which might take me out at highway speeds but were now merely worthy of "a look," I figured I'd need my best grumpy face.  And good knitting.  I grabbed some sock yarn and the sharpest dpns I could find and headed out.

Frankly, I was a little disappointed.  We only came close to the scene I was planning on having in the middle of the showroom twice.  The first tense moment occurred when I, despite having agreed to ask for a specific person when I arrived (we'll call her A), did not do that.  A is a former student of mine and I dreaded putting her in a situation that might lead to her reliving middle school due to my shrieking.  That's therapy just waiting to happen.  I was pleased to see that N was there.  She's treated me fairly over the years and I knew she'd do the same this time.  I thought I was doing a good thing when I bypassed A.  What actually happened was a sniping match between N and A due to N not knowing the situation and "feeling stupid" because A failed to put it in the computer.  This is probably why she said, in response to my questioning why they were only going to "take a look" at my car something along the lines of how this was just procedure and nothing I really needed to know about.

I said that I believed I had the right to know everything so she told me... and you know what?  She was right.  I concede the point.  The theory behind looking at the car was just about the most boring procedural event in recorded history and nothing I cared about.  Not even one little bit.  And I admitted my fault to N without reservation.  I like N.  She's cool.  I can admit fault.

My terms were agreed to without incident, however the tires were not available right away.  I was prepared to start fussing because I was all geared up for fussing and the coffee was starting to kick in, but A was already grabbing her purse and keys to drive me home personally.  

(And, if you don't think that it is weird being chauffeured home by a kid you last saw at age twelve and having to hear all about her upcoming vacation with her husband then you just can't appreciate weird.)

I spent a leisurely day at home napping, watching TV and making chocolate sorbet.



I can't believe I'm going to say this...but it is actually too chocolaty.  Crazy, I know!

The second incident almost occurred when I went to pick up my car.  The trusty staff finished washing it and then came in with my keys.  They were presented to me with the words, "Here you go, Honey."  Having had little else to complain about today, I figured I could launch into a nice feminist-rage based tantrum just so the whole morning of preparation wasn't wasted.

Then I happened to take a closer look at the Key Master and decided that I'd suffer through the whole "honey" thing.  I guess there are worse things than taking the Honey Bullet under certain circumstances.  I'll be OK.  Honey is fine.  I like honey.  

(And anyone who cares to point out that the Key Master is young enough to be my son can expect a sound beating about the head and shoulders.  You will also not be invited to the wedding.  And you'll be really sorry when that happens because I'm pretty sure that his mom is going to let us bring his X-Box to the reception and that's gonna be wicked cool. ) 

So I got my car fixed for free, had it washed, got called honey under acceptable circumstances and now I don't know what to do.  All that preparation.  All that pent up rage.  All that coffee.  I'm not quite sure just where to expend all my righteous indignation.

Maybe it's time to start a new lace project.  That always seems to bring up some rage.  I dunno.  I'm sort of at a loss here...

SA

18 comments:

Mel said...

Too chocolatey? Too. Chocolatey. Too...chocolatey....

Nope, doesn't compute - pure gibberish. Clearly you need help. I'll grab my spoo...er, keys and be right over.

Kath said...

Yeah, no....I'm sorry but I just can't wrap my head around "too chocolatey". That's just not possible. I suspect you've been eating too may veggies and your tastebuds are damaged. All is not lost, this situation can be remedied by frequent applications of any product labeled "Hershey" or "Ghiradelli".

Oh and excess angry energy is very useful for cleaning. Not that I'm suggesting anything.

sheep#100 said...

Did you gird your loins? Or is that too personal a question for the blog? It really sounds like you both girt (past tense of to gird, of course) your loins and put on your Big Girl Panties - of which, I am aware, that you have a generous plenty.

We are pleased that there were no Sheepie dollars expended in the replacement and alignment of the round things we call tires - even if it was at the expense of all that "weird" with the former, now married, student. Been there, done that. Ask me sometime.

PS - Number Guy says, "We are expecting an invitation to the wedding, Honey."

Mia said...

I'm so laughing about the Key Master... can I be a bridesmaid??

Ronni said...

I love it. What does one have to do to wrangle an invite is what I want to know. I feel for the pent up rage issue though. I've been there it can be expensive. I usually end up buying yarn or a really nice bottle of wine.

Knitting Linguist said...

Heh. Judging by my most recent experience with lace, I'd go that route. Lace emergencies are always good for releasing pent-up rage (and tears, and screaming, and...).

Congrats on getting your new tires, though.

Anonymous said...

If something is *too chocolatety* that just means you are not drinking enough milk or coffee with it. Mend your ways.

Congrats on the new tires and alignment. Too bad you didn't get to stage that mad scene. I've always wanted to do that but I'm too Scandinavian.

Cursing Mama said...

I'm glad to hear you didn't call me for bail money last night and I missed your call; I was a little worried about that. Now I'm worrying that the stress of the whole tire situation has thrown your whole tastebud system off because I do not believe there is anything that could be too chocolatey.
I think HM might want to look into that.

Anonymous said...

A woman can call me honey and it doesn't bother me. It's actually funny when it comes from someone younger than me. But when a man calls me honey, it seems condescending. Strange...

debsnm said...

Isn't that just the way? You go in all prepared for a righteous indignation fight, and they become all reasonable on you. You can bet if you'd gone in all nice and happy and stuff, you'd be paying for those tires now, yesseree bob! Congrats on finding the new beau, and getting something you deserved (for a change!)

Anonymous said...

I'd rather be called honey than ma'am. I want to slap them when they say ma'am.
I'm glad it all worked out as it should have.

Alwen said...

That is interesting how they went from the tires of doom to needing to be looked at. Some days I could use a Look that worked as well as that one.

Donna Lee said...

Yay for new tires and clean cars for free! I'm not fond of being called honey either but I figure it could be way worse so I live with it. We won't evem discuss Ma'am.

Anonymous said...

I would have loved witness that ride home; it must have been very weird!

p.s. When should I start checking the mail for my invitation? I just new there was a reason you were discussing fine china recently :-)

Lynne said...

This has nothing to do with your post. I just opened "google.com.au" - the illustration for today is a cycling sheep! You really must take a look!

Yarnhog said...

Oh. Well. I need to call the IRS. Wanna come over and use up some of that pent-up aggression?

catsmum said...

too chocolatey?
not possible
end of discussion

Anonymous said...

Congratulations on the new tires. It's a good thing they came through. If they hadn't I can just picture a number of knitters showing up to plead your case. All those pointy sticks would have gotten a lot of attention.
I hope you have enjoyed your "too chocolaty sorbet". Milk with it sounded good.