My car tried to give up the ghost on Friday on my way home from work. And it did so right in front of the Toyota dealership. Handy. I don't, as a general rule, go to the dealership because of George Costanza. But I'm not going to turn down the miracle of a dealership when my car is experiencing seismic activity.
So I pulled in (well, more like jumbled in), and as usual I met some Characters. Isn't life wonderful? I don't handle stress or broken cars very well. I have a tendency of imagining the worst. And instead of hyperventilating (don't worry, I did that later) I got a good laugh.
First from my service consultant Rob (George would go ballistic over this. It would just be one more way for them to give you the old scroogy.) He was a large, tattooed fellow who on no less than three occasions said, "You and me both, girlfriend." Oh, man! I knew I was going to love him forever.
And then Eli, who drove me home. Eli was from Japan by way of Hawaii and still had a very deep pidgin accent. He spent 37 years in the merchant marines and you cannot believe the stories this guy had. Oh, the women he met in South Africa. The food he ate in New Zealand. The time he almost fell overboard in the Tasman Sea. The fights he got into in Amsterdam. I was so glad that he was only driving 45 miles an hour on the freeway. And then 15 on the side streets. Who cares that people are screaming at you and flipping you off as they pass by when you have crazy Eli telling you tales of the sea.
My car is fine now. Rob gave me the hook up and didn't once mention rust proofing.