Tuesday, July 27, 2010

This, That and the Other

I was off yesterday to visit with one of my physicians. We go shoe-shopping. NOT. But he's a nice  person, very quiet and very small who always calls me 'buddy' in such a manner that you can hear both d's, which is quite a skill. I last saw him in April so seeing him again in November I regard as progress (yes, based on my seconds of medical school training). You doubt me? Okay, turn your head and cough. That was too easy.          


When you're off during the conventional 'work day/week' (you're working other than first shift) things get very weird because what you're normally doing is different than what you're currently doing. All the things you expect to be busy and crowded, because they are when you get to them on a Saturday afternoon, are very different when you're there Monday at eleven in in the morning. You know the feeling, 'been in the right trip, must've used the wrong car.' You better honk, my friend and always use those directionals when turning.


I wound up in the store that wants me to Save money. Live Better (though I've get to see any  correlation between the latter and the former, especially if you used to make the stuff they sell, until they found a cheaper off-shore supplier). This one had a TLE, Tire (and) Lube Express. Catchy eh? This is why it's so cool to live in the USoA, because we've all these snappy little acronyms like FYI and FWIW (I'm LMAO, you know that one, over LMDO, lick my decals off, though it hasn't quite resonated the way its sponsors had hoped.) WWJD? No idea. 


I'm not being stuck-up when I say I don't use the TLE anymore, because on a previous car I did until once, the drain plug wasn't put back in (I never attribute to malice that which can explained by ignorance, but I've gotten close) and then the next time, the plug was stripped taking it out and the TLE guys truly believed it wasn't their doing, though I knew no one else had played with my car's oil pan (IYKWIM, if you know what I mean). So I go my way and they go theirs.


Over the PA came the announcement "Mr. So and So, owner of a 1937 Mahogany Terraplane (I forget the exact model and it's not important), your vehicle is ready for pick-up at your convenience in the TLE ." Yeah, about that. If it's ready at my convenience, spare me the page. I'll get it when I'm damn good and ready to get it. And no pipsqueak (not my first choice of word, BTW) with a microphone and a public address system is gonna rush me. 


As a matter of fact, it's a really good thing the mass transit around here is so terrible and very much a crap-shoot, otherwise I'd take a bus home and leave my car in your service bay until I was ready to come and get , just like you told me in the first place when I dropped it off. Brat. But no worries, the feeling soon passes, the belligerence ebbs and I'm on the way out of the store.     


As I'm heading out, the fellow coming the other way holds the door for me (no need to, they're automatic and it tells you that in eleven or so languages on the doors, but it's the thought that counts) and I say 'thank you very much' to which, as we all know, the ONLY acceptable and correct response is "you're welcome." NOT, 'no problem."


I'm not sure how 'no problem' replaced 'you're welcome' in social intercourse here in the Land of the Unlimited Slurpee and the We Never Close Donut Emporium and Coffee Place. Between you and me, I don't care if it is a problem. We're not talking about the struggle to raise the flag at Mount Surabachi, and BTW, none of those Marines used that turn of phrase, that much I'll make book on. 


So when you hold the door for a curmudgeon like me and he says 'thank you,' your response is ......c'mon you know it, we just went over this material. Otherwise, you may want to pay attention to the announcement about visiting hours for post operative patients. And since we're putting people in wards alphabetically by injury, hope for C, for 'convenience' and not N, for 'no problem.' And don't get me started on Dude, dude.  
-bill kenny

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