PissedKitten

OK, so I have a car. Why is that an invitation for suffering and humiliation at the hand of my local grease monkey?

It broke down the other day- I mean why wouldn’t it? It’s mechanical and mechanical things are prone to wear and malfunction right? I accept it, it pisses me off when it happens but I’m at peace with the possibility. What cheeses me is having to deal with arrogant “experts” who immediately claim superiority over your mechanical abilities merely because you’re a girl.

All the “Honey, you probably don’t understand blah, blah, blah” and other condescending BS that I had to endure was well worth the satisfaction of stumping the knuckle-dragger’s diagnostic skills with my ailing American-made SUV and later fixing it myself with calm logic and a little research on the web.

I even managed to stay relatively clean while making the repair.

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If you can read this post from a reasonable distance and chew gum without falling out of your chair, you just maybe, possibly, be capable of operating a motor vehicle.

Conversely, if peering at the screen is in any way obfuscated by glaucoma, cataracts, rheumatiz’ medicine or if you’re fidgeting in your chair from an overdose of Geritol that is threatening to overload an already-soggy pair of Depends, maybe there’s a slim possibility that your driving privilege ought to be revoked and you should do all your shopping on TV.

I don’t mean to sound overly bitter, it’s just that far too many senior citizens have been trying to introduce me to my Creator during the past several weeks.

And I’m not a granny or grampy-hater, I just wanna live!