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| - Do I have "SUCKER" stamped on my forehead?
I didn't think so. So quit treating me like that rubber vag in the drawer next to your bed you skinny little failed-out-of-car-salesman-school queef.
The other day I noticed a screw in my tire. Hadn't busted a flat yet, so I high-tailed it to the nearest tire place (Ted Wiens) to have them look at it and patch it or whatever needed to be done. The guy says, "Ma'am I hate to tell you this, but that screw is so badly embedded in your tire, we're going to have to replace the whole thing. More bad news as well. All of your tires are balding and need to be replaced."
Ok. Number one, I just bought this car. Number two, it only had 10K miles on it, so I highly doubt it needs new tires already. Number three, I KNOW WHAT A BALD TIRE LOOKS LIKE. And that ain't it.
So I snatched my keys out of the assclown's hand and take the car down the street to Big O Tires. Friendly fellow walks up to me and lets me explain what the problem is. He takes the car around to the back of the garage. Gets out of the car. Squints at the tire. Does something to the tire. Gets back in the car and drives straight through the garage back to me. "Here ya go ma'am." I look in my hand, and there's the screw. Look at the tire. It's fine. Look at him. He says, "Oh, no big deal, it was just stuck in the tread at a weird angle so it looked like it was in your tire. Here look. (He had chalked where the screw was so I could see it). No marks! You got lucky!"
So I say to him, "Just out of curiosity, what do you think about the condition of the other three tires?"
He told me he thought they were perfectly fine.
This is why I don't own a gun. Grrrr.
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