This morning on my way into work I stopped by the grocery store to pick-up some cough drops to help suppress the annoying and lingering sore throat my girlfriend gave me (she thinks it's cute when she passes her colds on to me--they impact me 10x more than they do her, yet it's still cute when I'm in the fetal position bundled under my sheets begging for the snot in my nose to stop running--yep, really cute). Anyhow, as I was letting my car cool down I noticed a guy across the lot looking over my car from a distance. I didn't think much of it and proceeded to turn her off and lock her up.
As I was walking into the store the same guy eyeing my car approached me from behind and asked if my car was turbocharged.
I could have said "no" and walked away, but instead I said "yes" and it was at that moment when the 'S' was rolling off my tounge that I realized I had made a huge mistake.
For the next 10 minutes I was bombarded with questions relating to how I managed to shoehorn a turbo kit in a tight engine bay or how fast my car goes or how much power it makes and comments of how any type of Honda/Acura are more powerful than V6's/Ford's/Mazda's, how his car would beat me in a street race, how he's only working as a landscaper until his dreams of being a fully-sponsored race car driver come true, how he's outrun every sheriff or state patrol car, and on and on.
Needless to say, I got sick of his talking and reached into my pocket and pretended as if I had received an important voicemail and that I ought to be getting on my way. He proceeded to follow me back to my car and he soon realized that I would be on the road and probably to never speak to him again. He asked that I write down his cell phone number so thatwe could speak again he could tell me his car was better than mine. I pulled a pen and my business card out of my pocket and as I was getting ready to write down his number, only to toss in my glovebox later, he asked why I just didn't give him my business card. And so I did.
S T U P I D !
Any day now I expect a call from this guy on my work phone or possibly an e-mail or possibly a personal visit if he can put the numbers and letters together. This is what I get for being sick and needing cough drops, this is what I get for being an idiot, this is what I get for having a sexy car.
As I was walking into the store the same guy eyeing my car approached me from behind and asked if my car was turbocharged.
I could have said "no" and walked away, but instead I said "yes" and it was at that moment when the 'S' was rolling off my tounge that I realized I had made a huge mistake.
For the next 10 minutes I was bombarded with questions relating to how I managed to shoehorn a turbo kit in a tight engine bay or how fast my car goes or how much power it makes and comments of how any type of Honda/Acura are more powerful than V6's/Ford's/Mazda's, how his car would beat me in a street race, how he's only working as a landscaper until his dreams of being a fully-sponsored race car driver come true, how he's outrun every sheriff or state patrol car, and on and on.
Needless to say, I got sick of his talking and reached into my pocket and pretended as if I had received an important voicemail and that I ought to be getting on my way. He proceeded to follow me back to my car and he soon realized that I would be on the road and probably to never speak to him again. He asked that I write down his cell phone number so that
S T U P I D !
Any day now I expect a call from this guy on my work phone or possibly an e-mail or possibly a personal visit if he can put the numbers and letters together. This is what I get for being sick and needing cough drops, this is what I get for being an idiot, this is what I get for having a sexy car.
1 comment:
yup, you're the cutest sick person I have ever met. Not even James Bond could make being sick as sexy and smooth as you make it.
The cutest part- when you get a blue tongue from your cough drops....
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