It's Just One of Those Days

Work: It was better! We worked on alloys all day, and I hit them with a fierce determination to erase yesterday off the map. Make me feel like the weak link? I don't think so. Of course, nobody else really thought I was the weak link anyway as far as I could tell, but that didn't matter. I felt that way. So I plowed through those barrels as hard as I could. By the end of the day we were well over the 125 guns that the Powers That Be wanted out of us ... and I have a 20 gun headstart on tomorrow. That isn't bad.

Then: Ok. That was annoying. Today was when I took my car over to the shop to find out what's up with all the stalling. I left it outside, gave my keys to the nice girl (named Jen, by the way, just like every girl in the world), and sat down to read a book while they looked at it. Fifteen minutes later one of the guys came in and found me. The car was out of gas, he said, and he couldn't start it. Well, no, I don't think so, I replied. Granted, the needle was reading a little low, but there was plenty of gas. But he insisted: no gas in it; can't start it. Well, you know that the car being reluctant to start is why I'm here in the first place, right? You do know that, RIGHT? So this turned into a big argument.

I was just shy of Gimme the Fucking Keys Back when cooler heads prevailed, and fine ... gimme a gas can and I'll go put some fucking gas in the car and then we'll see. Then I set out on my journey, walking across Newport to buy some gas. When I got back with the gas, the car had been moved closer to the shop. Yup. I poured my $4.38 worth of gas into the tank and went in. The guy was in there on the phone with some other customer, so I did that little thing with my index finger that really means Give Me My Fucking Keys, with the full intention of going out there and starting the thing up. So then he gets off the phone and says, yeah it wasn't out of gas ... sorry about that. NO SHIT? I'm pretty sure somebody brought that up already. Anyway, they say it's the ignition, and by this point I was pretty skeptical, but he did demonstrate to me why he thought so, and it's a fair point that the ignition is pretty worn out. But I asked how come it's worse when the weather is hotter than like it is today, and he blew that off as coincidence. Let's just say that I'm a little dubious about his "expertise" here.

Anyway, I have an appointment next Wednesday to have my ignition replaced to the tune of $215. Woo frikken hoo. If that fails to fix the problem that brought me there in the first place, however, I will not be pleased, and a second argument will undoubtedly take place.

After I left I realized that I made the appointment in the mindset of the hours I'm working this week (the eight hour day) and not the hours I'm working next week (the ten hour day), so my appointment is at 3:00 but I get out at 3:50, which is a little inconvenient. But I do have an idea how to pull this off.

After all, Cooter does owe me several favors.