Why is it that if someone puts my car up in the air, money mysteriously drains out of my wallet??!? It never fails.Thanks be to God I have a decent job.
I always take my car to the gas station where we know the guysbecause we feel they are honest. This is important if you're a single woman.
Last weekend they were only supposed to change the oil and check the tires.
Next thing I know, Nate, a huge guy with blonde hair and an accent much more southern than mine, tells me my tires are bald and fixing to pop any minute. Dang. "You gotta get them thangs fixed, Ms. Thompson, 'cause I'd hate for you to be out drivin' around and them things pop on ya," he says, worried frown on his brow.
I swallow hard. "Um, no, no I don't want that," I reply, stunned.
I go home and call my brother. He doesn't know Nate and worries I am being scammed. He tells me something about seeing if a penny will go into the tread? And Lincoln's beard? HUH???
I try the penny test and it falls off the tire. I figure that's bad. Michael looks alarmed. "We need new front tires, Mom. Nate was right!"
Genetically, Michael just knows this.
Genetically, you could tell me the confarbulator is jumogowied and if I don't get it fixed the whole car will vaporize us into a different dimension of time and space, and my brain will not really process it. DADGUMMIT HOW THE HELL MUCH MONEY IS THAT GONNA COST ME?!?!? will be going through my head, but on the outside, since I was raised right, I will simply furrow my brow and say something like "Oh dear, well, let me check my bank account and my schedule and see when I can get that bad old thingamabobby fixed. I'll call y'all about bringing it back in."
So, after Nate has called me three times to remind me about the tires, finally I go in late yesterday afternoon and I'm sitting there peacefully reading my book. Nate comes ambling out of the service bay, brow furrowed, again. I tense up.
Then I learn, after he has fixed the tires and back brake light, that I need new brake pads. And if I don't get 'em soon, I'll need new rotors and that's gonna be REAL expensive. DADGUMMIT HOW THE HELL MUCH MONEY IS THAT GONNA COST ME?!?!? immediately pops into my brain. I force myself to simply ask, in a quiet voice, "Um, about how much will that run me?"
"That there'll run you $180."
"Including labor?"
"Yes M'am."
I mentally add $100 since they always ballpark it low. "Let me talk to Mother and I'll get back to you," I say quietly.
So finally I am on my way last night, and I go to pick up Michael from wrestling. He gets in the car without his glasses. He tells me that he was running up and down the stairs, and he got sweaty and took them off and put them down on top of a fire extinguisher. Then he forgot about them.
Then he went back after practice and they were gone. What a shock.
Oh joy.
There's another $100-$200 that's going out of my wallet my weekend.
And he really needs contacts.
It never ends.
