Saturday, December 05, 2009

It's like that time that I thought I was dying from food poisoning. Only worse.

It was an eventful week at work (nothing bad, just lots of crazy), culminating in a late Friday night snow shower that disappeared before I woke up this morning - which, admittedly, was a little later than anyone wanting to see snow should have been in bed. But all of this is meaningless, in light of what happened to me at the mechanic this morning. Mike wasn't there. I called a few days ago to let him know to order the Top-Secret-Super-Special Oil that my Prius takes. Everything seemed fine. Normal. He didn't ask to take today off, didn't tell me that he was putting some unknown woman behind the desk to take the key out of my hand. I walked in and was immediately confused and unsure. It took me a long time to find Mike. I'm not ready to break up with him yet. Oh, the pain! Oh my breaking heart! So my car is in the hands of someone named Lora. A nice woman, sure, with a great smile. She's still learning the computer system, so it took awhile. That didn't bother me, because I was frantically peering through the window into the shop, scanning to see if Mike was halfway under a hood or fondling someone else's engine. (Oddly enough, no one found a woman staring at a garage full of mechanics note worthy. Have I not been following protocol all the times that I *didn't* ogle the men?). Luckily for my nerves one of the mechanics was with her. Somehow* he knew who I was, knew about the Top-Secret-Super-Special Oil that my Prius takes and that it had been ordered this week, knew that I wasn't going to stay in the waiting room. He knew my routine. He remembered my old car. He's not Mike. But he'll do. For now. *It's the cookies. It seems I always go in there in December, so I usually bring them cookies when I pick my car up. Everyone deserves cookies in December. Especially if you're working on my car. Not-Mike is definitely getting cookies today. I can't take any chances right now, with Mike gone. My heart is too fragile. Update: Oh Noes! They finished with my car in record time - 1 hour instead of 3-4, so I didn't have time to bake them cookies. I'm getting a bad-car-karma feeling in my stomach that exactly matches the pain in my heart over Mike's defection.

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