What a marvelous time I had yesterday waiting in the lounge for my car to be repaired.  As I sat in the plush new easy chair and helped myself to a free cup of coffee, I watched my favorite show on the wide screen plasma television.  I could look out the huge picture windows and gaze at the rolling hills that surrounded the garage.  The décor was magnificent, and all the fixtures were state of the art.  Even the bathrooms were luxurious.  A man was even chasing me around with a towel so I could wipe my hands on it.  It’s a wonder they don’t have a health spa in there while you wait.
I had such a wonderful time until a man came over and told me what was wrong with my car.  “Yikes!!”  He told me at first that my repair job would only be minor, but somehow it grew into some huge complicated undertaking, costing more than I could even imagine.  He told me if I didn’t get it fixed today, I would eventually have to pay more, so I gave him the go ahead.
No wonder the repair shop is so luxurious, thanks to me. I just love paying for that beautiful lounge while putting myself further into debt.  I just love being so masochistic.  I also love canker sores, arterioscierosis, being flogged up on the poop deck at sea, supporting thieves, and all that good stuff.  If it weren’t for all of us masochists, they couldn’t afford such beautiful surroundings at the garage.
I have to have my car.  I can’t go to work without it.  I have to keep it running, but in order to do it, I have to be one of the benefactors to keep the repair shops in luxury.  If I’m not, I can’t go to work.  What can I do about it?  NOTHING!!!!.


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