truck, a phone & a menopausal woman.

This is my sweet ride. I have so enjoyed this vehicle and I faithfully take it to be serviced every 5000 miles. Because I want to own it forever and never pay another stinking car note...ever. Because I want this vehicle to always know the contour of my tush, I made a service appointment at the dealership we bought it from. Thursday I awoke bright and early, grabbed the trowel to apply my makeup, gulped down a cup of coffee and headed out the door. I was on the road at 6:40 am, driving down Interstate 95 to make my 7:00 am appointment and on the dot, arrived at the dealership. I was told by the efficient service writer that it would take about an hour and-a-half to rotate and balance the tires, check the levels and blow their magic pixie dust all over the truck. Fine. I waited and waited and heard my name...YAY, I'm done! "Whoa, hold on, little lady! It seems that your battery isn't up to snuff and it failed the energy test. Would you like for us to put a new one in?" Hmmmm...vacation is coming up....YES. Fine. Go ahead. So I wait a little longer, then I'm summoned to the counter to pay and my bill is now doubled, due to the termination of my battery. Whatever, I just want to hop in my sweet ride and get out of Dodge, blow that Popsicle stand...you get the picture.

Imagine my dismay when Jonathan went to pull the truck into the garage last night and it wouldn't.....START! Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo....................................................So I got up early this morning and you guessed it, at the crack of dawn dialed the phone.

And dialed, and dialed and dialed. Left messages...the service manager was in a meeting. There was absolutely no one available (in charge) to speak with. "Oh, they're all in a meeting," I was told. "Oh, I was informed that Friday is your busiest day. WHY WOULD YOU CONDUCT MEETINGS ON YOUR BUSIEST DAY?" I demanded to speak to a manager, no one else would do. I had to leave a message, again. The service writer called and gave me a number to a towing company, he wanted me to have my ride towed back in (at their expense), but I had questions that he could not answer. "I WANT TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER!!! " I called back, after leaving a message. I told the kind receptionist that if she didn't get someone on the phone immediately, I was going to send my lunatic husband down to the dealership and it wouldn't be pretty! Kids, I'm a pretty mild-mannered person, but at this point, I was stark-raving mad.

Aaaah-ha! That's the ticket...madness! Kevin (the service manager) picked up the phone and boy, did I let him have it! (I didn't curse, because I don't believe that cursing accomplishes anything except to make an individual sound coarse and illiterate). You know what? Kevin came to the house with a new battery and swapped it right there in my garage. He and a Russian man, Kevin's "arm." It seems that we were sold a bad battery back at the dealership. I asked Kevin if he brought "Ruskie" (I can't pronounce his name) along for protection. He chuckled and said "no." Now I personally don't believe Kevin, I think he thought that I was going to do him in. Maybe slam the hood down on his head as he peered into the engine. Or sweep his feet out from under him. Or lunge at him and rip out his juggler. I was that mad. But I learned something today...

I am woman, hear me roar!

And now my sweet ride and I are reunited and it feels so good!