This, of course, led to some arguing because I clearly don't wear dentures. Just hateful that they call me names like that. I didn't mind so much that they gave me a choice between janitor and jester. I'm clearly never going to be a mechanic.
So I chose jester for now. Mostly because I really dig the cool hat with the bells on it. As it turns out, they preferred that too so I couldn't keep sneaking up on them.
I'm like an overgrown kid like that. "You finished yet? You finished yet? Can I leave now? Huh huh huh. Can I?" Then I dodge a wrench or screwdriver.
While they're working I'm waiting in the Driver's Lounge. As usual, I'm the only one in there. I'm fairly certain there's another one, one where they let everyone else sit. The odds are either Molly or the company I'm leased to has an agreement with Detroit Diesel that restricts my public interaction.
It's ok though. I like having a private room with a tv in it. It's kinda like being in the waiting room waiting for my truck to come out of surgery. Every time they open the door to announce either progress or another problem found I get excited. So long as they never open the door and tell me they pulled a Caitlyn Jenner on my truck. His name is Willy, never to be Wilma. When Molly decided to name my truck Willy it became a joke. Like "Willy make it to the shop or won't he?"
Today Willy is here because he has a timing issue. Since I can't really afford to be broke down right now I'd say this is poor timing in addition to the engine timing. Apparently shooting flame out of my smoke stacks is bad. Especially when the truck can barely move. I can't tell you how fun it is when people freak out.
Here I was at a steel mill all excited "look! Behold the flame from the mighty dragon! I challenge any of you knights to slay this mighty beast!" Turns out all it takes is a security guard with a cell phone. Sadly. Ruined the whole day for me, I tell ya.
"Sir. Sir! You're supposed to be wearing a hard hat and safety vest. What are you doing?! Get down! No, you can't tear your shirt off and run around claiming you're the 'Fire God'."
Fortunately, I just claimed it was the fumes from the unburned diesel that impaired my judgement.
So, here I sit, released on my own recognizance, watching tv alone. This shop has the most basic of channels so I stop on USA for a minute to see what's on. Wrestling. Eh, can't be that bad, right?
Wrong. It's horrible. This WWF stuff is atrocious. Not only is it unrealistic but I've seen better acting by sock puppets. At least they were more believable. Even more unbelievable than the acting was the crowd.
Grown people are there. Men and women actually paid money for those tickets. These folks are yelling and screaming like they actually believe this stuff. I can see folks in the crowd with banners. Some wearing shirts and stuff with these guys' names on them.
So these people honestly believe that a guy can stand on the middle rope and punch another guy in the face 6 or 7 times but never break skin, cause any bruises or even swelling? Seriously? Or this "7 foot tall, 450 pound" guy called "The Big Show" can't hold a guy on the mat for 3 seconds? "He hooks the leg. 1,2 and he kicks out!" Dude, you're 450 pounds. Put some weight on him; he ain't going nowhere.
Brain cells I'll never be able to regrow. Gone. Poof! So I'll just switch to something educational. My options at this shop are limited. History channel? They don't have Discovery here. Time to get my learning on. As I kick back with a cup of coffee and prepare myself for "Brad Meltzer's Decoded: The Spear of Destiny" I hear cheering from somewhere in the building..."yeeeeah! Pin 'em! You've got this!"
Oh. That's why I have my own room I guess.
No comments:
Post a Comment