Cars and husbands
Sean called me last night while he was driving home from Orlando, and asked if I'd have time to get his car serviced today. His "Check Engine" light had come on, and he was due for an oil change. Since he had another 300 miles of driving to do today, he thought it would be better not to drive his car. No big deal I told him.
I sat about 2 hours at Toyota while they ran some diagnostics, and they came back with the news that his cadilitic converter is on the way out. Luckily it's covered by warrenty, but they had to order the part - can I bring it back on Tuesday? Sure thing.
Come home, call Sean to find out if we need to do the car swap thing tomorrow or if he will have time to take care of this part himself. He sounds really upset on the phone, so I ask him what's wrong - it can't be the car thing. That's minorly inconvinient, not upsetting news.
It's *your* car, he tells me. Theresa (the very blonde woman he works with) put down my windows so she could spray perfume in my car, and now he can't get one of them back up.
Was I wrong to be more upset about the perfume spraying than the window? I don't give a rats ass if it's raining and my car is getting wet - what is another woman doing spraying perfume in my car?
This woman wears way to much cheap perfume. I've met her several times; you can't get the stench of her out of your nose for hours after she's hugged you goodbye. I knew she was going to be going with him, but it never in a million years occured to me that she would stink up my car in the process.
It doesn't even matter if it's expensive perfume rather than cheap perfume. That is not her car. Spraying perfume is the civilized woman's way of marking her territory. And my car is SO not her territory.
But that's why she put the windows down, he argued. Right. She's spraying perfume in a car. The fumes are not magically going to disipate in the 10 seconds she leaves the windows down.
If my car smells like another womans perfume when you bring it home, I told him, you're getting it detailed. Then I told him how he could get the window up. And then I hung up.
Next time he's getting his own damn oil change.
I sat about 2 hours at Toyota while they ran some diagnostics, and they came back with the news that his cadilitic converter is on the way out. Luckily it's covered by warrenty, but they had to order the part - can I bring it back on Tuesday? Sure thing.
Come home, call Sean to find out if we need to do the car swap thing tomorrow or if he will have time to take care of this part himself. He sounds really upset on the phone, so I ask him what's wrong - it can't be the car thing. That's minorly inconvinient, not upsetting news.
It's *your* car, he tells me. Theresa (the very blonde woman he works with) put down my windows so she could spray perfume in my car, and now he can't get one of them back up.
Was I wrong to be more upset about the perfume spraying than the window? I don't give a rats ass if it's raining and my car is getting wet - what is another woman doing spraying perfume in my car?
This woman wears way to much cheap perfume. I've met her several times; you can't get the stench of her out of your nose for hours after she's hugged you goodbye. I knew she was going to be going with him, but it never in a million years occured to me that she would stink up my car in the process.
It doesn't even matter if it's expensive perfume rather than cheap perfume. That is not her car. Spraying perfume is the civilized woman's way of marking her territory. And my car is SO not her territory.
But that's why she put the windows down, he argued. Right. She's spraying perfume in a car. The fumes are not magically going to disipate in the 10 seconds she leaves the windows down.
If my car smells like another womans perfume when you bring it home, I told him, you're getting it detailed. Then I told him how he could get the window up. And then I hung up.
Next time he's getting his own damn oil change.
---------------------------------------------


0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home