Friday, January 19, 2007
Man the Yardarms, you Sons of Scabby Whores
Things are looking up. Thanks to everyone who wrote and wished me well. My car is purring like a cat out of hell. It only took one crazy-intense exchange with the pirate, er, auto mechanic, and suddenly all is well in Camilleland. It always amazes me how easily my life unravels, and conversely, how easily the illusion of normalcy returns.
Good Mechanic/Bad Mechanic
Riddle me this. You go to two mechanics to get your car fixed. One mechanic announces that he is a liar, will break your car and charge you for it. The other mechanic says that he is honest, even though he is constantly tempted to charge people a hundred bucks for "some thing-jinger or other." He also tells you a story about how one of his clients, a theology professor, asked to see one of the girlie calendars that mechanics are known to have around, and then how the prof "woof-woofed" at it.
I am immediately suspicious when someone tells me that they are honest. Maybe they are? I sure hope so, because if he is honest, then he is saving me the indignity of being a dupe.