Thursday, June 25, 2009

Bitch Fight

I'm sure everyone has had a fight that they have had to choose win or loose. It can be a tough call to make. Especially when it comes to girls fighting each other. Bitch fights. They can be bad. Real bad. Like fingernail scratching, biting, and weave-pulling-out fighting. As females this can happen quite a bit. This happened to me here recently. I had to decided to throw in the towel, or keep scratching with my nails. I kept scratching, and I'm glad I did. Because the 80 year old I was in a fight with, she wasn't going to back down either!

I'm going to [try to] keep the story short. I love my small town. I love the small-town things. I love that I can take my truck to the auto shop, 3 miles from my house, get a sandwhich or slice of cheesecake from the local corner eatery, go to Southern States and browse, check out the florist shop, etc, while they work on my truck. I love that they know me by name there, and expect my business. But I may never, ever return to this place I love.

I need my brakes replaced. I also need to go to work. I give them my car during the week, which gives them a Monday afternoon and all day Tuesday to get the work done. The guy tells me he can do it in that time and that he'd give me a call Tuesday afternoon to let me know what the final estimate is going to be. He never calls.

I call up there, Tuesday, about 2 hours before they're going to close. Plenty of time to figure out what the dealio is. The bitch answers the phone. An 80 year old woman runs the shop that her son owns. She is responsible for taking care of the books and appointments. She answers the phone in a sweet, slow, southern voice, "Yessssss, how maaaaay I help youuuuu?"

I explain my problem very slowly and clearly. I have not received a call, and I expected to have my car back today.

"Weeeeelllll, sometimesss, the things we work onnnnnn, just turn into something eeeeeelse." She says. Great. Thanks for keeping me informed.

She also says "We won't get to it tooooday, and prolllllly not tomorrow."

"Ok, thanks for letting me know. I'm going to have to come and pick up my truck." I'm a tiny bit peeved that they didn't let me know things were taking longer-than-usual. No phone call like they promised. So I march my happy ass down to the shop.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up my Ford Ranger." I say sweetly. Her son comes into the shop and wants to know why I'm taking it without the work being done. I explain that his mother told me they "prolly" can't get to my truck, even tomorrow. I tell him that I can't do "prolly" and that I have to take my truck and my business elsewhere to get it fixed. I don't have time to wait.

He is confused. I can get it done. No- you cant. You're mom told me on the phone "prooooollly." Which means to me, you don't know. I'm taking my truck to the city where they have plenty of people to work on things and take my business.

The sweet old lady throws a tantrum. "I didn't telllllllllllll youuuuuu thaaaaat." Her slow speech is picking up a bit. "I told you that we couuuuld get to it today."

Um, no. Basically you're calling me a liar. That is saying I have no integrity.

Oh no she didn't!!!

I am yelling at this sweet old lady, and she is yelling back at me. I'm furious. I don't care how old this lady is, how sweet she pretends to be, I am NOT backing down. I'm getting my point across and her son will understand that his mom has screwed up!!! I don't think I've ever yelled at an old lady, especially one that seems so sweet. And I don't think an old lady has ever yelled back at me!!! I was shocked. So shocked that I wanted to get louder, and not let her win. I had to beat this old lady. And I did. I guess. Because I walked out of the store in the middle of her "Noooo, you've got it allllll wrong." and went to get RNH. He came in the store and handled it man-to-man with the lady's son. I was fuming. And sweating. Who knew an old lady could make me so hot and bothered???

I end up leaving the truck there. The guy that owns the shop convinces me that he'll have it fixed by tomorrow when I need it.

So great, I have to show my face there again tomorrow???? Ugh. Whatever. I go and pick my truck up the next day. RNH and I take the truck to the dump. We get to 55mph and the truck starts vibrating. BAD. I'm PISSED at this point. How dare you YELL at me in your shop and then SCREW up my vehicle?!?!?!

I had to let RNH handle this one again. He calmly walks into the shop, tells them the problem. They pretend that it's nothing they did, but then promise me a free oil change. Along with the free wheel-bearing that I had got for the last mishap.


I loved my auto-shop. I'm upset that I don't feel I can trust them or that they do faulty work. I'm sad that I'll never be able to eat lunch and get an oil change, stress-free ever again. I'll be back to taking the car in, sitting for an hour while it gets worked on, tapping my feet the whole time wishing I was doing something else.

Oh well. Hopefully I won't come across any more bitches. Espeically the 80-year-old ones. You'd think that since she's got more age and practice at being a bitch, she'd be able to out-do me. Nope! Or maybe she's just too tired to fight any longer. Either way, I feel triumphant. I have won, won a free oil change and wheel bearing. All for standing up for myself in a bitch fight!

1 comment:

  1. It's always the little ones that are the meanest!!! I had a very petite friend in high school that everyone assumed to be really nice just because she looked that part and weighed 80 lbs. She'd smile really sweetly when people spoke to her and then cuss at them under her breath while they walked away!!! She kept smiling the whole time and no one but her closest friends knew what she was really like.