little weirdnesses

You know how you have one of those days--maybe more than one in a row--where weird stuff happens? Not earth-shattering, devastating weird stuff, but maybe...you find a turtle in your bathroom, or when the printer gets jammed at work, all you have to do is stare at it to get it working again, or you have an hilarious conversation with the previously anonymous postman...just something a little out of the ordinary?

After dropping the kids off at camp, the truck broke down in the middle of an intersection in Mt. Holly. Just quit. About a month ago the same thing happened, and we installed a new fuel filter and pump. At a cost of several hundred dollars.

So the guy tows us back to Mr. B's, (who is no longer my favorite mechanic) unloads the truck off the lift, crawls underneath, bangs on the bottom, and starts it up again.

Of course he didn't think to do this before towing it. Frankly, neither did we. It's like that printer at work. How would you know something will work if it never occurs to you to try it? He surmised it was some clog or another. I wonder if it will cost us another several hundred dollars for Mr. B to come to the same conclusion?

Later, I watched as 2 wandering Jehovah's Witnesses took a picture of my bumper magnets. I'm not sure if they thought they were amusing or are planning to report me to FBI.



The weird thing is, they didn't come up and knock on the door.

Mr. B

My brain is foggy now, as headsnot and viral interlopers have taken over its functioning. Yeah, that's right: my previously superior immune system is now fighting off whatever stupid cold my family spread around. It's doing a pretty good job so far. I've got a big ol' turkey carcass simmering on the stove, so I can make turkey soup: clinically proven to reduce cold symptoms. I'm guessing turkey and chicken are interchangeable.

While we're mired in a 13-day shopping frenzy, for the true meaning of the Christmas spirit, I need look no further than Mr. B, my auto mechanic.

I took my van in for a winter tune-up a few weeks ago. When I got it back, I noticed it was hesitating and idling roughly, and when I gunned the engine there was a pop under the hood. Like a small explosion. I let it go on for a week or two, hoping it would work itself out, which is my reaction to any potential unpleasant confrontation with humans or auto mechanics or salespeople. Not surprisingly, it didn't work itself out. So I took it back to Mr. B.

I politely explained that this problem started after they had previously worked on it. They said they'd take a look at it. After two days, they still couldn't figure out what the problem was and kept it over the weekend.

Finally, yesterday Mr. B called and said he'd gone in over the weekend and fixed it. No charge.

I'm cynical, so I assumed this was just a way for him to sound like a nice guy, and knowing that if he offered to do it for free (in fact, fixing what they kinda screwed up in the beginning) I would jump in and say, no, no, let me give you something for your trouble. And then he would be a doubly nice guy by refusing it. What a manipulative jerk.

Which is exactly how it played out.

I went in and offered him some money. He refused it. Manipulative jerk!

"But you came in over the weekend!" I argued.

"Yeah, but I do that sometimes."

"But you're an independent businessman. You can't go giving away your services for free!"

What the hell is wrong with me? He fixed my van for free, it took a lot of his time, it required parts, and I'm telling him how to run his business and trying to give him money when I don't have to. Who's the manipulative jerk now?

"Well...you pick and choose who you do that for. You're a good customer, and you've spent a lot of your hard-earned money here. So, that's what I do. Merry Christmas."

I lamely tried one more time, gesturing my arm forward, check in hand. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

So, Mr. B is in fact a very nice guy. I think he digs me. I graciously accepted the win, thanked him profusely, shook his greasy hand and left, knowing that even though Mr. B won this round, I'll get back at him next week with a big tray of cookies.

Thanks again, Mr. B.