Where the hell is everyone today? Jesus, people, don't you know we're supposed to update on Friday so I have something to read? So here's something that's not fun: car repair. The university had one of those "get your car checked out for free" things so I went and the guy told me I needed an oil-change, LIKE NOW. This is annoying to me because I JUST FREAKING GOT ONE LIKE TWOMAYBETHREE MONTHS AGO AT THE GREASE MONKEY. I'm not sure why I'm shouting except that I think the Grease Monkey fools were so busy trying to up-sell me that they forgot to actually change my oil. They did, however, vacuum out my car, so that was nice.

Anyway, I dropped off my car yesterday for an oil change at a regular old all-purpose garage and, as usual, I got The Call. My phone rang around 9:30 and I cringed because I KNEW. The garage guy, in a very solemn and serious voice said "Ms. __, you need two front tires, LIKE NOW. They are worn down to the radial. Also, you NEED AN ALIGNMENT. BADLY. God, okay sir, I believe you.

I decided it would be cheaper to take my car to Firestone so after I picked it from the oil change I felt like I was driving around on inflated time bombs for the rest of the day. My tires, they could go at any time! Never mind all the other days I drove on them, blissfully unaware of my possible doom.

So, this morning I got up at the ass-crack of dawn and drove over to Firestone to arrive even before the opening-up guy. He didn't show until 7:10am, much to my smugness, but he promised my car would be first (as soon as a mechanic arrived, natch) and would be ready by 9:00am. I wandered over to Starbucks to have breakfast and wait out my time. The Starbucks happened to be the one I worked at about a million years ago, so it was interesting to sit back and try to dredge up a memory or two. The only really cool thing I remembered (aside from lots of free coffee) was the lightning storm I watched with an equally-fascinated co-worker, early one morning. I think the sun had just started to come up and we stood outside the store watching crazy lightning zig and zag with picture-book perfection. Mostly, though, that job just sucked.

I'd brought a book* to read but there were so many interesting people coming in and out that I spent most of my time watching and wondering. The most interesting couple was an older man with a rail-thin college-age boy (lovers? Father and son?) who was wearing giant sunglasses and a woman's white wool coat. When he took off the glasses he had the look of having slept maybe an hour after a long night of drinking. He ordered a Vente soy raspberry latte, a combination which makes me want to hurl just thinking about it. No wonder he looked like shit

I wandered back to Firestone around 8ish and Goddamn if my car wasn't exactly where I left it. I sadly went to sit in the waiting area and watched Montel with the rest of the chumps. At twenty after I asked if my car was actually going to move at all and they obliged me by putting it on the lift...and ignoring it. After about a million more years, they did stuff to it. Then I had to wait for the counter guy to wrap up a really long telephone conversation while I waited to be rung up, which also took a million years. Around this time a bronzed, assy-looking guy comes in all in a hurry and is practically hopping up and down behind me. He finally interrupts to ask if he can just leave the keys to his ALPHA ROMEO (Oh dude, of course you drive an Alpha Romeo. What else?) and go. I gave him a scathing look because HI, I HAVE BEEN HERE FOR THREE FREAKING HOURS AND NOW MY PANTS ARE GOING TO SMELL LIKE FIRESTONE ALL DAY. And they do. They do.

This whole adventure cost me $180, so nobody gets any Christmas presents unless they want to wrap and then unwrap my sad little car. I have to say, the "alignment" business is actually pretty choice. I can steer my car with one finger! Who knew you didn't need all that muscle to turn the steering wheel?

The End. Happy weekend, monkeys!

* The book I'm reading is The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It's all kind of good, I can't even tell you.

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