Thanks to comedy miles beating the hell out of my car, I have had to spend some hard earned cash to keep it moving. The latest money pit item was a control arm. What is a control arm, you ask? Answer – something that takes $724 to fix, apparently. I need to learn how to fix cars myself…oh look, a beer! What were we talking about?
I picked up the rental no problem. Upon the return, it got stranger. One gentlemen was trying to get a different car. Not because of the size, fuel efficiency or something normal. He didn’t like the color. On a rental car. “I’ll wait, I prefer a red one.” I was secretly hoping he got a red car, then he accidentally drove into the Running of the Bulls and got gored repeatedly. MOVE YOUR ASS.
After waiting behind a young lady who didn’t know who her car insurer was (that wasn’t frustrating), I finally returned the keys. The sales rep was busy, so my new friend Brent gave me a ride back to the shop. Brent wasn’t much of a talker. I don’t like strangers, but it was uncomfortable riding in silence. “Getting colder today.” He waited about 9 seconds, then said “Yep.” Another 8 seconds. “Yep, maybe snow.” Then nothing. Five minutes passed in deafening quiet. I had to try again because I think he was looking for a place to hide my body. “That guy had some crazy Halloween stuff in his yard.” Without making eye contact, he took about another nine seconds. “Yep.” When we pulled into the shop, I nearly injured myself getting out of the car while it was still moving and said thanks in a brisk trot. It reminded me of my dates in high school. One girl I took out almost lost her leg bailing out before I stopped. Now I know what you felt like, every girl I dated 1995-2002.