A phone call from a roving Adaptive Curmudgeon to Mrs. Curmudgeon.
Ring ring…
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Hello?”
Me: “AAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH!”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “I’ve told you to switch to decaf.”
Me: “I HAVE! I’m in Starbucks, surrounded by hipster dipshits, and I’m drinking decaf!”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Oh my God! Are you OK?”
Me: “I am now. It was dicey a few hours ago. My truck entered a different dimension of time and space while I was in it.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Yikes. Was anybody hurt?”
Me: “Nope.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “The truck is totaled?”
Me: “Nope.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Ummm… so it broke?”
Me: “It suddenly and violently went totally apeshit while I was at the wheel. I’ve dealt with ‘broke’ before and ‘broke’ is merely a ‘bad thing’. Apeshit is different. I do not condone ‘apeshit’ as an acceptable state of being for my equipment.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “It was scary?”
Me: “I’ve driven vehicles where the hood flew up and blocked the windscreen. I’ve driven vehicles that caught on fire. I’ve had the actual wheel itself fly off. Lost brakes, collisions, deer strikes, oil pan blowouts, doors that fly open….”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Um… You’re scaring me.”
Me: “…transmission dropped… I mean literally dropped out of the car, blown radiators, that one time the radio caught on fire and…”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard all that. You lost your REO Speedwagon tape in the radio fire. So you had a breakdown. After years of driving shit you’ve seen it all. So what?”
Me: “This time it hit my good truck.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Your big blue security blanket?”
Me: “Suddenly. I had to come to a screeching halt at the edge of the highway. No warning…”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “It can’t be that upsetting.”
Me: “When the mechanic named a price I didn’t even bitch about it.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Oh my God! I didn’t know that was possible!”
Me: “Me either. Also, I’ll be getting home late. Like a few days maybe.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “And you’re not pissed off.”
Me: “Not really. I’m going to rent a room. Watch cable. Eat Cheeto’s.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Wow. It must have been crazy. You take care.”
Me: “Yeah. I’m gonna’ pretend I’m in the free shit army for a day.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “How long can you stand that?”
Me: “Apparently until the mechanic’s bill arrives.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Reality blows.”
Me: “Yep. I”m gonna’ blog about this all day.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Now you’re in the spirit of being useless! Enjoy your nerd therapy.”