One of Ol' Wigger's customers came back in today, and boy was he pissed off.
He bought a new quad on Saturday and went out riding last Sunday. He was doing fine until the left front wheel came off. The quad rolled. He was in the hospital until yesterday.
He paid cash, and has no insurance, and wants us to do something, because the other wheels have loose lugnuts, so he assumes we gave him the quad with loose lugnuts. He had his quad on a trailer, and it is really fucked up. The frame is bent and half the plastic is in a loose pile in the back of his pickup.
The CSB told him that his owner's manual clearly states that you are to tighten the nuts and bolts before every ride.
the applicant we didn't hire
A guy came in today looking for a job. He was in his early 50s and had on really interesting lime green tracksuit. We thought he was looking for a handout. He was on crutches, and had a dent in his head. Instead of a resume, he had a stack of letters he wanted us to read, that he kept in a spiderman briefcase. He spoke to Mondo first, who decided he would make an ideal addition to the staff.
Mondo pointed to Paco and said, "that's the guy you want to talk to," then helped himself to the customer Paco was getting ready to approach.
Paco listened briefly to the guy, realized he was insane, and referred him to Star.
Star takes his job seriously, so he had the nutjob fill out an application, then interviewed him for about half an hour. He wrote in the margins of the application and looked at a couple of the letters. Then he took the application to the CSB and told her the guy had experience. She looked up from the computer, turned her head and saw the guy.
"He's too old," she said, and stuck her head back in myspace.
Mondo pointed to Paco and said, "that's the guy you want to talk to," then helped himself to the customer Paco was getting ready to approach.
Paco listened briefly to the guy, realized he was insane, and referred him to Star.
Star takes his job seriously, so he had the nutjob fill out an application, then interviewed him for about half an hour. He wrote in the margins of the application and looked at a couple of the letters. Then he took the application to the CSB and told her the guy had experience. She looked up from the computer, turned her head and saw the guy.
"He's too old," she said, and stuck her head back in myspace.
What a Wonderful Week
This is what I remember,
Taco Dave got a new dog. He came over to the dealership to show me, thinking I give a fuck about anyone else's dogs, and then we took off for lunch. He insisted we have lunch at my house, and after we had sex and went back to the dealership, I noticed he'd stolen half my vicodin out of my purse.
I went online and put Freddy Fife's name all over my myspace page, so he'd know I love him and maybe snag me a couple bottles out of the evidence room. I wish the dumbass would quit sending me pictures of dogs. That's all he does, send me pictures of dogs and of himself holding fish. Okay, you like dogs and fishing, I get it, now steal me some vicodin out of the evidence room, dumbass.
I had to call Ellie May and see if one of her redneck relations had been in an industrial accident and needed a little cash. No luck.
Weavepole Dave's sister came into town that night. We'd been trading emails about a porno movie she saw that reminded her of us, so we went out for dinner. In the excitement of trying to find more vicodan, I forgot to shower, but she didn't complain about the aroma or consistency while she was gobbling away. She did say she liked my smooth shaved schnater.
I decided to send Weavepole Dave an email, wishing him a Merry Christmas, to see if he is still interested in having sex, because I am really hot. He isn't, so I sent him another one about what a great woman I am and how he is missing out on the life we could have together and that he's going to end up alone and lonely.
Then I found his post in the M4W section of craigslist, and copied it and sent it to his sister. We made fun of it, and how he wants to find someone normal, with no hangups. What does he think he had, the loser?
I emailed him again, saying I'd seen his post, and hoped he found someone like I did. He ignored me. Weavepole Dave is a bigger loser than I thought.
Then I met some guy on myspace, and we traded photos. He's younger than me, and wants to fuck me, so I must be hot. I wonder if he steals vicodin. I sent the same photos to Freddie Fife and Weavepole Dave's sister. I look really hot in them.
I took Freddie Fife to the family Christmas dinner, and while he was entertaining my pathetic relatives, I went into the bathroom and borrowed dad's vicodin. But there were only 30, enough for a day or so. I took six and went back out to enjoy Christmas.
Ellie May called me right before New Years Day. One of her cousins lost an eye at work, and has plenty of vicodin. I told her to come by later, after we had a couple of cash deals and I could take money out of the register and blame the parts department for coming up short when Mom catches it.
The CSB
Taco Dave got a new dog. He came over to the dealership to show me, thinking I give a fuck about anyone else's dogs, and then we took off for lunch. He insisted we have lunch at my house, and after we had sex and went back to the dealership, I noticed he'd stolen half my vicodin out of my purse.
I went online and put Freddy Fife's name all over my myspace page, so he'd know I love him and maybe snag me a couple bottles out of the evidence room. I wish the dumbass would quit sending me pictures of dogs. That's all he does, send me pictures of dogs and of himself holding fish. Okay, you like dogs and fishing, I get it, now steal me some vicodin out of the evidence room, dumbass.
I had to call Ellie May and see if one of her redneck relations had been in an industrial accident and needed a little cash. No luck.
Weavepole Dave's sister came into town that night. We'd been trading emails about a porno movie she saw that reminded her of us, so we went out for dinner. In the excitement of trying to find more vicodan, I forgot to shower, but she didn't complain about the aroma or consistency while she was gobbling away. She did say she liked my smooth shaved schnater.
I decided to send Weavepole Dave an email, wishing him a Merry Christmas, to see if he is still interested in having sex, because I am really hot. He isn't, so I sent him another one about what a great woman I am and how he is missing out on the life we could have together and that he's going to end up alone and lonely.
Then I found his post in the M4W section of craigslist, and copied it and sent it to his sister. We made fun of it, and how he wants to find someone normal, with no hangups. What does he think he had, the loser?
I emailed him again, saying I'd seen his post, and hoped he found someone like I did. He ignored me. Weavepole Dave is a bigger loser than I thought.
Then I met some guy on myspace, and we traded photos. He's younger than me, and wants to fuck me, so I must be hot. I wonder if he steals vicodin. I sent the same photos to Freddie Fife and Weavepole Dave's sister. I look really hot in them.
I took Freddie Fife to the family Christmas dinner, and while he was entertaining my pathetic relatives, I went into the bathroom and borrowed dad's vicodin. But there were only 30, enough for a day or so. I took six and went back out to enjoy Christmas.
Ellie May called me right before New Years Day. One of her cousins lost an eye at work, and has plenty of vicodin. I told her to come by later, after we had a couple of cash deals and I could take money out of the register and blame the parts department for coming up short when Mom catches it.
The CSB
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