7and8

I had to go to one of my least favorite places this week...the car dealership. I would have done the oil change at the local guy but the wife told me to take it to the dealership so they could do the recall on the wiper blades.

*as you read this picture me with even more gray hair + wrinkles (not the monkey) and half-moon reading spectacles*

A young lady sat next to me in the waiting area. As I read my book about how Paul Revere was a brash, bad ass the young lady decided to serenade the waiting room with sounds of her chewing (with an open mouth) her Egg Mc(Freakin')Muffin. But wait there is more, she then decided to call dear ole Mom and Dad and tell them that her horn would soon be fixed and that she didn't have the clap from her latest sleaze fest. BTW she should have shipped her presents earlier and will be home around 2p on 12/24. If she would have given her CC# or phone number I would post that here too since she didn't seem to care who listened to her conversation.
An elder statesman sat near me and commented on the tart's 'tardedness. My response was biblical, "At point are we our brother's keeper?" He didn't know either.

Then the pre-pubescent swinging dick that they call "service care represen'tard" let me know the truck was done and pretty much told me not to let the door hit me in the ass. I just had a freakin' oil change, routine stuff, and this guy shrugs me like young Ms. Muffin's donor from last night. I took the high road as I left but I am pretty sure I'm going to be one mean S.O.B. when I am old enough to pull my pants up to my nipples and use a cane.