Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Dear Mr. Rotten Auto Mechanic

Dear Mr. Guy-Who-Was-Supposed-to-Fix-My-Car;

I know it's only Wednesday, but I can't wait until Friday to complain.

So, Mr. Guy-Who-Was-Supposed-to-Fix-My-Daughters'-Car-Which-They-Fondly-Named-Roberta . . . when I paid you $400 to repair the car, I foolishly assumed that you had actually fixed the cause of the stalling, and so thought I would be safe to leave my trusty 1999 White Ice Minivan home for a change. . . especially when I was was meeting a few friends for drinks on the town.

Little did I know that - after three glasses of wine - your suckiness-at-auto-repairship would rear its ugly head and I would become stranded at a traffic light with a stalled car.

If it were not for my excellent survival skills, Mr. Rip-Off-Who-Poses-as-an-Auto-Mechanic-Guy, I might have been in some serious trouble . . . for I can see it now. . . Yes, Officer. . . I just found out that this car is four months overdue for inspection. . . and Yes, Officer. . . I've had a few glasses of wine. . . but, don't worry, it was happy hour. . . and that means they were only filling my glasses halfway. . . so it's really only like I've had a glass and a half. . . and No, Officer, I don't have Triple A, because I let that lapse. . . if you could see the bills I have to pay. . . . and No, Officer, I can't call my husband to come pick me up 'cause he's away on a church trip with my daughters. . .and I'm left home here all alone on my perfect week. . . which . . . of course . . . did not include cars breaking down and threats of blowing wine breath into your breathalizer . . .and that. . .Officer. . . is the truth. . . the whole truth. . .and nothing but the truth. . . so help me, God. . .and speaking of God. . . did I tell you I work for a church?????

And - even though I narrowly escaped that fate by keeping my foot on the accelorator at all times - let me just warn you here and now Mr. Nuts-and-Struts-for-Brains, you have not only pissed me off, but have alienated the Car Gods as well. . . . for when my daughters get home from their mission trip to Appalachia, I'm going to set them loose on you, and you better run fast 'cause rumor has it that now they know how to use a nail gun!