So like a year/year and a half ago I take my nasty shitty piece of donkey shit car to a local auto body. Although I neglect most things of minor inconvenience and have a major disdain for consuming and human interaction I find that I do try to adhere to regular oil changes. The auto man asks if I would like them to do a courtesy inspection on my car along with the oil change and with this sounding particularly pleasant I agree. By all accounts it was a courtesy at the very least, how could I refuse? Also, with any number of engine lights illuminating my dashboard at any one moment I thought that this inspection may be beneficial.
An hour or so later the auto man calls me direct on my cell phone and relays the finding of his courtesy investigation. The following onslaught of words was enough to make even the most constipated man shit and shit hard. Apparently every functioning, or should I say malfunctioning, part of my car was in dire need of being fixed or replaced. What concerned the auto man above all else was the shoddy condition of my braking system. He tried to be as clear as possible as to how dangerous and irresponsible it would be to not get this condition fixed immediately. But with a total bill of just over eight hundred dollars for necessary repairs I clarified that yes I can use the word fuck as a verb and a noun in the same sentence. Needless to say this courtesy inspection quickly turned into a minor inconvenience and like most things in this vain I decided to neglect any of the suggested maintenance much to the auto mans dismay.
Flash forward to yesterday.
I, once again, find myself sticking to my semi-rigid oil changing compulsion and drop my car off at another local auto body. By this point most of the original auto man’s fears have been largely justified. The fact that my car stopped at all was largely by chance, or by God’s will, but certainly neither I nor the brakes contributed anything to these miracle retardments in motion. So I asked the attendant to take a look at the braking system again as I fully comprehend that there is a problem that should be remedied.
An hour or so later the auto man calls me in disbelief about the condition of my vehicles stopping mechanism. So, I’m like hit me with it bro. And he is like four hundred fifty. And I go, “wooh, wooh, wooh, slow down egghead I don’t want to pay that much.” And he says, “let me talk to the dude and I will get back to you.” So I wait around for a few minutes thinking of creative ways to use the f-word completely ready to neglect this thing for another year or longer when he calls back. So now he says, “Ok, we will knock a hundred dollars off.” Then I say, “Wooh, wooh, wooh egghead. Ok.”
NEW BRAKES!
An hour or so later the auto man calls me direct on my cell phone and relays the finding of his courtesy investigation. The following onslaught of words was enough to make even the most constipated man shit and shit hard. Apparently every functioning, or should I say malfunctioning, part of my car was in dire need of being fixed or replaced. What concerned the auto man above all else was the shoddy condition of my braking system. He tried to be as clear as possible as to how dangerous and irresponsible it would be to not get this condition fixed immediately. But with a total bill of just over eight hundred dollars for necessary repairs I clarified that yes I can use the word fuck as a verb and a noun in the same sentence. Needless to say this courtesy inspection quickly turned into a minor inconvenience and like most things in this vain I decided to neglect any of the suggested maintenance much to the auto mans dismay.
Flash forward to yesterday.
I, once again, find myself sticking to my semi-rigid oil changing compulsion and drop my car off at another local auto body. By this point most of the original auto man’s fears have been largely justified. The fact that my car stopped at all was largely by chance, or by God’s will, but certainly neither I nor the brakes contributed anything to these miracle retardments in motion. So I asked the attendant to take a look at the braking system again as I fully comprehend that there is a problem that should be remedied.
An hour or so later the auto man calls me in disbelief about the condition of my vehicles stopping mechanism. So, I’m like hit me with it bro. And he is like four hundred fifty. And I go, “wooh, wooh, wooh, slow down egghead I don’t want to pay that much.” And he says, “let me talk to the dude and I will get back to you.” So I wait around for a few minutes thinking of creative ways to use the f-word completely ready to neglect this thing for another year or longer when he calls back. So now he says, “Ok, we will knock a hundred dollars off.” Then I say, “Wooh, wooh, wooh egghead. Ok.”
NEW BRAKES!
-- Jeremy Tague
