My car needed minor maintenance. For one, it needed a new headlight. After my two eldest Grands, Lily and Luke, pointed this out, I felt relieved to know I wasn’t losing my eyesight.
A woman, dressed like someone out of “Fargo”, welcomed me to the service center at the car dealership, assuring me it wouldn’t be long before someone would tend to all my needs.
While she scooped snow trapped beneath my windshield wipers, I remained in the driver’s seat, window open, awaiting the promised help from anyone in this unheated four lane garage.
Before my wide eyes, she began patting and shaping a snowball of formidable size. I tried guessing her target. Several mechanics and service men moved among the cars. None with bullseyes.
Then, I spotted him as he gave her the evil eye. Still clutching the snowball, she stuck her head in my open window and said,”He deserves it. They’ve brought him back from the dead a couple of times and he’s not thankful. He’s the meanest SUV I know!”
Considered correcting her initials, then figured she worked in a garage and an SUV might’ve been the worst thing she could think of.
When I left, she still gripped the snowball, though smaller, like some SUVs.
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