Death Wobble: Part V

At the Starbucks. After a couple hours and some Internet based review of the word “death wobble”.

Ring ring…

Me: “Curmudgeon speaking. If you’re a telemarketer prepare to die.”

Mechanic: “I checked your truck. It’s ‘death wobble’. You need to replace some parts on the front end. It’s not that bad.”

Me: “Are you shitting me? I think the fillings on my teeth exploded.”

Mechanic: “Yeah, the vibration can be a little shocking.”

Me: “Uh huh, and World War II was ‘a little unpleasant’. Did the ball joints vaporize?”

Mechanic: “One side, they’re out of spec. That’s part of it. Some other stuff. Problem is the parts. Won’t have parts until tomorrow. You can try to limp home…”

Me: “I live in a different time zone. Did I mention that the vibration was so sudden and complete that it made me question my relationship to reality and the nature of matter?”

Mechanic: “I can get on it first thing tomorrow. It’ll cost xxxxxxxxx (redacted).”

Me: “Usually I’d flake. I’m a cheapskate… but after that…”

Mechanic: “I’ll order the parts?”

Me: “Yeah, and I see a hotel a couple blocks away. See ya’ tomorrow.”

Mechanic: “It’s safe to drive that far.”

Me: “Thanks but…”

Mechanic: “That wild eh?”

Me: “After this is fixed I’m going to find the engineer that designed my truck’s steering geometry and set fire to his mailbox. In the meantime… thanks.”

About AdaptiveCurmudgeon

Adaptive Curmudgeon is handsome, brave, and wise.

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