(d)our (m)inions co(v)ey

I'm sorry to announce that I am crabby. I wanted to throw a party; I have now written 300 posts. I wanted to write about baking cookies with my kids last night, life lessons with flour and eggs. (The kids learn fractions, I learn p a t i e n c e.) Instead I was a good citizen, good wifey and took my car for a vehicle emissions test.

I pulled up to the booth and immediately the young woman started asking me questions. I'm not even going to pretend I speak car. My husband speaks car to me all the time. I 'listen' but don't retain squat. Heck, I listen and it sounds like:

car car car, car car car, blahblahblah, what's for dinner? blahblahblah car car car, you are pretty and the best wife ever, carcarcarblahblahblah, blah blah, Buffy. (Okay, he never talks about Buffy which makes me weep.)

You get the picture. I only perk up when it pertains to me. So when Ms. Inspection asked me a reasonable question I didn't know the answer to, I sighed and made a guess. In a grander moment, I would have looked at the registration paperwork in my hands, but I had just walked and gabbed on a treadmill for an hour and I was beat. Sweaty me couldn't think straight. She took the paper from me and corrected me. Cheater! Forget what I said. She's Ms. Snide. Every question is the same: Awkward silence followed by me hemming and hawing and wishing Greg was doing all the car stuff. Finally she dismissed me to pull ahead while she laughed with her co-worker, clearly at my expense. Oh funny funny her.

Laugh now Ms. Car-Speaking Mean Girl. I'll be back, and next time, I'll have all the answers right. Next time, I'll bring Greg.
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Comments

katydidnot said…
the hell you say! a meanie at the dmv? shocked...totally.
You are a better woman than I am, my dear. I usually look to Jason, smile crookedly and flutter my eyelashes. He can't resist that combo. And then he goes and deals with the meanies at the DMV.

I've been lucky though. Maybe because we're so much smaller down here Medford way, but the ONE TIME I did go, the dude was very cool. He made fun of me, but it was in a "I wouldn't make fun of you if I didn't love you" kind of way. I mean, he didn't love me. But he didn't hate me. That's progress, right? :)

Good luck next time! Throw that testosterone at her and see how she likes THEM apples!
stephanie said…
Wait - was the question "Is your car 4-wheel drive?" Because I always forget, even though it should be something relatively easy to remember. But the fact is, they can look under the car and figure it out; they just want us to feel dumb. I shake my fist and challenge them to spend an hour talking poetry with teenagers. Without crying.

We've got your back; we know you're smart in other ways :)
Anonymous said…
I don't speak car either. This was the funniest "car talk" post ever. I love it!
Anonymous said…
At least she didn't give YOU a ticket! Sorry about the cookies -- it is never as fun as you imagine it will be.

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