Where Drama Lacks, I Manage To Give Myself A Nervous Breakdown

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Today, things in the Hating Porkchop Department died down a bit, save a few snide comments. So. Since things were slow and the only active thing I was doing was slowly roasting in my own juices, as usual, I managed to knock a few years off my own life and construct a FIRST for the dealership.

I went out and started chatting with a few customers who were interested in a vehicle. I demonstrated it for them, crawling in and out, flipping seats down, setting of lights and blinkers and generally making a sweat-soaked fool of myself. I had earlier trotted them inside to get a copy of their license and get the keys to the vehicle. As I slid them into the driver's seat, I remembered I had forgotten a tag and cheerfully said "Wait just a minute! And we will go on a test drive. I need to get something from inside."


To say the least. I freaked. But quietly. I thought, maybe they are coming back?! I QUIETLY asked someone else if this had ever happened to them. No. No it had not. They loudly told me. Actually, it was more like "NO, I HAVE NEVER HAD THAT HAPPEN TO ME AND WHAT THE FCUK WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Your right. I wanted them to drive off so I could sit here biting through my lip and scratching my knuckles raw. Fifteen minutes passed. I paced. Twenty-five minutes passed. I almost bit through my lip. Thirty-five minutes passed. I envisioned myself getting fired. Fourty-five minutes passed. One of the sales guys walks up and says "What color was the car you sent them out in? Black? Yeah. Well I saw a black car stopped down the road..." When he saw my face blanch and me falter into something similar to a faint, he said "Just kidding!" Fifty-five minutes passed. I started bargaining with God.

At this point, pretty much everyone figured out what happened, except for the manager and were having MUCH fun watching me try to play calm and cool. They cheerfully told me that this had NEVER happened to ANYONE they knew. Eventually, they started proffering helpful suggestions. Just when I though I was about to cry or faint. They drove back up.

The smile I pasted on my face was so huge but only to distract from the fact I snatched the keys out of their hands so fast it was almost sub-human. They acted like nothing happened and I had to compose myself in a friendly fashion for another hour.


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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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