Monday, August 30, 2010
Mt. Man
I'm taking a moral inventory. What step is that in the AA book?
I am trying to get my van legal. Fuckers at the chop shop are as smooth as cream when they are trying to get me to drop the van off. Vultures seeing dollar signs where my headlights are.
So I drop it off and blast back on my Vespa Ciao on route one to work another 11 hours. Then go back and it is all ugly attitude and nasty stares from the service writers. What is the deal?
"What's up? Why no sticker," I said after seeing my van with no inspection sticker.
The dude's attitude was terrible. Treated me like dirt. All condescending tone.
"Well, there are no reverse lights and the shift interlock system doesn't work so you can start the engine in all gears."
"Why would I start the engine in anything other than park?"
"You shouldn't."
"I don't."
"Good."
"Well, then..."
"It's illegal."
"Only an idiot would turn the key with the tranny in reverse."
"It's the shift interlock. That's all I can say."
"Are you sure it had one?"
"Yes."
"I'm not. I'm not sure at all."
Get it fixed and we'll give you a sticker."
"You're serious? Because I could start the van in reverse you want to fail it? Do I look like an asshole?"
"Bring it back when it's fixed."
"I'll never fix that. I'm sure they bypassed it for a good reason."
"And no reverse lights."
"There were reverse lights."
"Not today."
"Well, who cares?"
Everyone of the service writers were looking at me like I was dirt. I felt like driving my '69 van into their window and crushing all those fiberglass sports cars they display in place of their pricks. Some asshole with a baby blue Harley outside that couldn't get over a curb if you had an F22 afterburner thruster attached to it's ass.
So I leave with an attitude like I just threw $20 away on some bullshit inspection. And I go to the van and open the door and on the floor of the van are my Spider Man man panties* and...this is the worse, the goddamn YMCA brochure I picked up because I was pricing the gym and the thing is laying there open on the floor with two prepubescent children all grinning and innocent and wet from swimming and I look at the Born in the USA Springsteen ass and Mick Jagger's cock LP cover and the bed and the piss jug and I start to put the pieces together. I thought I hid all that stuff but now I see that it all fell out when they jacked it up. Oh, god. So, now I gotta be extra careful where I park? I'm sure they made one call to the cops. Guilty by suspicion. I feel like my unconventional lifestyle unfortunately shares horrible traits with transient sex offenders. This is not my fault but at the same time I am feeling the effects. These random events all add up to being public enemy number one.
* I purchased comic book adult underoos to prove a point that just because Walmart sells something does not mean it is a culturally relevant item. Everyone wants me to just accept that Walmart is there and blah blah blah but when I go in randomly and see adult underoos in my size then I flashed an idea that I would prove that yes, Walmart exists and I can't do shit, but adult underoos also exist and if you want to defend Walmart as being too big to fail then fuck you and this is what happens when you blindly accept the Walmart marketing plan. You buy adult underoos with Thor and Spider Man on them and become a laughing stock and police target. But they exist! Walmart knows what's best for me! I trust Walmart. Blah blah! Fuck them! This is just an example of my experiment in truth. NEVER TRUST WALMART. IT'S ALL POISON!
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4 comments:
I told you Watts garage in Seabrook, or I know A guy on RTe 1 across from VIP, and he loves underoos. The Glutney
Wrong garage, wrong time, and definitely the wrong underware!
In Wisconsin, you just have to pass emissions. Might be worth the drive based on the experience you just had.
Oggy, I think I found the perfect place for you. If you haven't watched the documentary 180 South, check it out.
gracias Lyle. When I complete my arctic wolf documentary I will submit it to their team.
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