I've heard it said, that it's not what you get. It's what you give.
Last time y'all heard from me I ranted about some guy from Charlton who fleeced me for $20. Well, that dude has not made good on his promise. The mailman hasn't delivered the duckets. One might ask: Has Turtle lost faith in human nature?
As of this moment I have not. It appears that since this chance encounter my shit luck has taken a turn for the better. Maybe that cash was the cost of reversing the karma wheel for a short time. Instead of feeling like the storm clouds loom above. The winds of change are moving things about in such a way that I can see daylight now and again.
I recently had to buy a Kia. I'm not proud. Hey, it rolls...
This purchase felt like it took place at gunpoint. My '97 Taurus died in the first week of August. In the first week of October I placed my wife's car on the "injured reserve" list of vehicles. Fate forced my had to spend cash I didn't have. On October 10th. '06 I had a white, year 2000, Kia Sephia delivered to my doorstep. Little did I know I could become so preoccupied by a car. This "marshmallow" caused me to spend more time underneath it than behind the wheel. I was a man obsessed with trying to pinpoint where a mysterious stream of green piss was originating from.
This vehicle began "marking its territory" like a dog almost as soon as it arrived at my house. Anti-freeze flows green in the driveway should be the title of this car's biography. The long and the short of it is. Thank God for the lemon law. After four, count 'em FOUR trips to the shop in three weeks. I was ready to tell the dealer I wanted a full refund. His hired goons couldn't find any issues. They made me feel as if my imagination had blurred the boundary between the real world and the fantastic realm where dreams are made.
As a last ditch effort, on Halloween, I brought the car to my mechanic. He found the problem in 30 minutes. The problem was solved by replacing a cheap part that was warped by engine heat. I had the satisfaction of proving that the cheese had not slipped entirely off of my cracker. I called the car dealer and exclaimed, "We found the leak."
"Get me a price," he said before hanging up the phone abruptly.
My mechanic rang him back and an agreement was reached. The leak was fixed.
So, my friends, I may not have received my $20 back. Nonetheless, I was able to get my marshmallow repaired with someone else's money. Cosmic justice? I don't know. I still have a car that gets me to and from work; the karma wheel continues to spin.
Last time y'all heard from me I ranted about some guy from Charlton who fleeced me for $20. Well, that dude has not made good on his promise. The mailman hasn't delivered the duckets. One might ask: Has Turtle lost faith in human nature?
As of this moment I have not. It appears that since this chance encounter my shit luck has taken a turn for the better. Maybe that cash was the cost of reversing the karma wheel for a short time. Instead of feeling like the storm clouds loom above. The winds of change are moving things about in such a way that I can see daylight now and again.
I recently had to buy a Kia. I'm not proud. Hey, it rolls...
This purchase felt like it took place at gunpoint. My '97 Taurus died in the first week of August. In the first week of October I placed my wife's car on the "injured reserve" list of vehicles. Fate forced my had to spend cash I didn't have. On October 10th. '06 I had a white, year 2000, Kia Sephia delivered to my doorstep. Little did I know I could become so preoccupied by a car. This "marshmallow" caused me to spend more time underneath it than behind the wheel. I was a man obsessed with trying to pinpoint where a mysterious stream of green piss was originating from.
This vehicle began "marking its territory" like a dog almost as soon as it arrived at my house. Anti-freeze flows green in the driveway should be the title of this car's biography. The long and the short of it is. Thank God for the lemon law. After four, count 'em FOUR trips to the shop in three weeks. I was ready to tell the dealer I wanted a full refund. His hired goons couldn't find any issues. They made me feel as if my imagination had blurred the boundary between the real world and the fantastic realm where dreams are made.
As a last ditch effort, on Halloween, I brought the car to my mechanic. He found the problem in 30 minutes. The problem was solved by replacing a cheap part that was warped by engine heat. I had the satisfaction of proving that the cheese had not slipped entirely off of my cracker. I called the car dealer and exclaimed, "We found the leak."
"Get me a price," he said before hanging up the phone abruptly.
My mechanic rang him back and an agreement was reached. The leak was fixed.
So, my friends, I may not have received my $20 back. Nonetheless, I was able to get my marshmallow repaired with someone else's money. Cosmic justice? I don't know. I still have a car that gets me to and from work; the karma wheel continues to spin.
posted by Turtle at 7:13 PM
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