This morning, while driving to work, I spotted a homeless man waving his arms wildly on the side of the road. Coincidently and at that very same instant, I suddenly found a pressing need to understand the mechanism of my eyeliner. As I studiously examined my makeup and paid as little attention as possible to side of the road, I noticed that Waving-Arms Man was dressed rather nicely for a crazy. He was even wearing a tie. And, as it happened, a shirt of the same color as the one Cody was wearing this morning! Hey! Waving-Arms Craziness Crazy is my husband!
I quickly pulled my car over and let the not-so-homeless-after-all-man-who-turned-out-to-be-my-spouse into the passenger seat. "What happened??" I asked. "Are you ok???"
"Those motherless-f*&%ing #$*^ers! What the #%*& do they think it means to $%*ing fix a $%&*#%^* car??!!??" responded Cody.
"Whoa," I commented, nicely, and in a very understanding tone. Cody contiuned to explain the situation by saying, "I'm going to %&@* go over there and $%&# $%&^#* $%^#&*@*!"
"Well, yeah," I said, exuding sympathetic wifelyness and love.
"Arrggghhh!" he concluded.
You see, Cody's car has been broken for quite some time. We finally were able to get the thing towed to a mechanic who then finally fixed* it. It was quite the celebration when the red Jetta was returned to us. However, it seems that whenever Cody left this morning for work, the little tube or pipe or whatever it is in there that sends the oil to the engine decided to just go on and take another break. Or sabbatical. Or maybe it got fed up with the labor unions in the engine and is planning on walking out on us forever. I guess affirmative action is the key to solving this mystery, but the last time I checked, everything inside an engine looks blackish. The only possible solution is that the oil-sender is probably a female who has had it with the male dominated world in there and has a job offer as the chief oil manager in a cute little 4-Runner across town.
But I digress. The real moral to this story runs far deeper than a mere lesson on fairness and equality. What we all need to remember is this: The next time you are sitting in your car at a stoplight, and you see a man (or woman!) selling roses, or holding a sign explaining their plight to the masses, don't just look away, or pick that time to search for the valuable item you just remembered is probably on your floorboard, or pretend to be asleep, or lock the door, turn down your rap music, and slide down in your seat, Office Space style. Because that man or woman might just be your husband.
The end.
*Obviously an example of not fluently speaking Mechanic. FIXED, in Mechanic, always means MAYBE IT MIGHT POSSIBLY MAYBE WORK SOMETIME FOR JUST A MINUTE. Conversely, and unfortunately, FIXED in English means YES IT WORKS NOW. Failure was certain.
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