Wednesday, July 25, 2012

My Day With The Mechanic

I have two subjects that will set me off on a tangent, religion and puppy mills. I don't like discussing either and am usually not very nice about it. Today I had the good fortune of being confronted by both, in the same place. What are the odds?

I have a good friend that has this insanely huge truck for reasons known only to himself and it needed tires. He ask if I would ride down with him and keep him company. Being with me on many occasions when my mouth has run amok I assume he figured it was safe to take me to a mechanics garage. How could I get in trouble or embarrass him there? He was so wrong and it's probably a safe bet that I won't be invited along when it comes time to change the oil.

It was hot so I seek out a shade tree to wait, my friend beside me. As we are sitting there in the grass fighting off the ants that were determined to get a look at the human vagina a guy rolls in on a bicycle with a flat tire. Now when you see a guy with black pants, white shirt and a black tie riding a bicycle in our area you already know your dealing with a Jehovah's Witness. Now let's get this straight, I am all for religion, but I have my own religion and I don't need you shoving yours down my throat. Although I do confess to looking at a Jehovah's Witness as a giant toy just waiting on me to play with it for a while. My friend starts to squirm, he knows me well. He mumbles that it is only a bicycle tire so it shouldn't take long and we won't have to have any contact with the poor unsuspecting soul. This just wasn't his day for being right. The mechanic is very busy and tells him it will take a bit so just find a cool spot to wait in (yeah, this was one of those high class mechanics without an air conditioned waiting room to wait in). He wanders over to us and sits down beside me and immediately starts to witness to me. My friend leans over and whispers in my ear "This would be a good day to NOT say the first thing that comes into your head." I look at him in amazement that after 20 yrs of knowing me he can still hold on to hope that this might be an option for me. It isn't. Besides I had a Jehovah's Witness to play with.

Me: "Why if only 144,000 of you are going to heaven are you all still out day and night recruiting more members? Once you reach your limit, which I am sure by now you have many times over, what do you to with the leftover members?"

Him: He has no answer for this.

Me: "Were you actually there when God told you his name was Jehovah? I mean did you hear it with your own ears? Because sometimes things get all screwed up like that whisper game where you whisper in one persons ear and they whisper to the person next to them and by the time it gets around the room it's a totally different thing. What if his name is really Bob and you guys have been calling him Jehovah all these years?

Him: Again no answer, but he is looking eagerly at the mechanic as if to telepathically ask him to please hurry and fix his tire.

Me: So you don't celebrate Christmas, you can celebrate all anniversaries and weddings but not Christmas, right?

Him: Right.

Me: You don't give gifts either, right?

Him: Right.

Me: Fuck, I am glad I am not one of you because I have my eyes on this pair of earrings I want for Christmas.

Him: Silence, but now his eyes are practically begging the mechanic to hurry up.

Me: In your religion you say that "God says we should not be judging anyone else. I agree whole heartily with that one. But then He says that humans look to the outward appearance and God looks at the heart. So if that is true why are you guys running around town on bicycles and dress clothes? According to you God doesn't care about the outward appearance so why not just be comfortable in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt? You could even put a logo on it, something like "I am a Jehovah's Witness and I am here to drive you crazy with my nonsense".

This was the point my friend pulled me away to another shade tree. Hell I was just getting warmed up. But there was an even better victim under that shade tree. A dog breeder, who is breeding about 8 different breeds, in all sizes at one time. In other words puppy mill material. I have nothing against good dog breeders, my grandfather bred Bloodhounds, my father bred Arabian horses and hunting dogs and I myself have bred English Bulldogs, Neapolitan Mastiffs and Great Danes (never at the same time, one breed at a time). A breeder needs to know that breed inside and out and all the breed specific illnesses, the breed standard for show, the background of each dog, etc. It's not something you just throw two dogs in a pen and hope they hook up and have puppies, if your doing it that way it is irresponsible breeding. I could tell within five minutes of conversation she had no clue about proper breeding or much at all about the breeds she was breeding. My friend saw disaster coming. I spent the next 30 minutes lecturing on irresponsible owners who backyard or cage breed. I so enjoyed my time, but unfortunately by the time she could really hate me her car was finished and she left. I start looking for my next victim.

It didn't take long. This time it was the mechanic, complete with the obligatory greasy butt crack. The only way a butt crack gets that damn greasy is if your scratching it with grease on your hands. We have now been waiting about 2 1/2 hours. It is now 10:30 am. He informs us that he had a cup of coffee that morning about 5:00 am and was now getting the "jitters" and needed to take time out to eat some shredded wheat cereal. Of course the nurse in me kicked in to inform him that if it had been that many hours since he had the coffee then the "jitters" were not from the coffee unless he possibly just ate the coffee by spoonfuls from the can in which case he would not only have had a good case of the "jitters" but also a severe case of diarrhea all morning and it would not be a sudden onset. My friend at this point just puts his head down between his legs to hide his face, wishing against all wishes he had just left my ass at home. I suspect, from the looks of him he went to the back and downed him some Jim Beam instead of shredded wheat cereal to get rid of his "jitters".

At the shop he as two adorable Boxer's one full grown and one 3 month old baby. I am sitting under the tree, because by this time my friend has forbid me to move to another location in fear of me finding another victim to occupy my time with. I am sitting, in the grass with my legs crossed Indian style when the baby boxer climbs into my lap and lays down for a nap. I am an animal lover so I am loving this, finally calm and not looking for a victim. But the mechanic just couldn't let me be, he just had to rile me up again. He comes over and says "Look I don't mind if you pet the dog but would appreciate if you don't pick it up. Last week I had a 3 yr old that picked it up and the puppy wiggled out of her arms onto the concrete and could have gotten hurt." I agreed with this, but had to point out the inconsistencies in his theory. Number one I was sitting down, in grass, not standing on concrete. Number two I did not pick up his dog, it crawled into my lap and went to sleep, obviously not wiggling. Number three if it fell out of my lap I seriously doubt the three inches onto soft grass would harm the puppy. I did however thank him for thinking I looked like a three year old but did have to ask if his vision was that bad did he think he was able to put on the $1,000 tires my friend was having installed without help.

Let's just say the mechanic and I didn't bond.


  1. Um, what's wrong with your hearing it's Bobovah!!!!!

    1. See that's my point you heard Bobovah and I heard Bob, no telling what the man's real name is!LOL