| rev:text
| - Went to rent a truck today and stopped at Budget Truck Rental. The moment I walked into the joint I sensed trouble, as all the staff were aimlessly shuffling around in some sort of Prozac fog. There were plenty of customers there standing in line or at the counter, but the staff were all doing something else like in another dimension helping other customers in the future. When I finally got my turn at the counter I asked for a 10' box truck which was pictured on the placemat at the counter. The clerk said 'do we have those?' And I replied 'well yes you do, ya see those 12 vans out front there, those are 10' box trucks'. She then proceed to dig through a box of keys and said 'I don't think we have any'. I asked if the guy next to her could help me and she replied 'no he don't know nothin this is his first day!'
Then to my amazement, a fellow budget worker appeared and asked the clerk that was helping me to look at something, so then for 13 minutes (I timed it) she worked on another project while half way in the middle of mine. Again I was tempted to move to the new guy that didn't know 'nothin'.
After 40 minutes I finally got my contract and ready to receive my truck. The clerk said 'just go stand out by the back door and they'll bring you your truck, when I asked 'who's they?' She bursted out laughing at a joke that the new guy said. So I took my paper and shuffled towards the next adventure.
I'm in Las Vegas and it's 108 degrees in the shade today and I'm standing out in the heat waiting for the truck, and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting... After 22 minutes (I timed it) a guy wondering around the yard in sort of a medical marijuana trip with a Budget shirt on started to walk towards me. As he got closer I held out my paperwork in anticipation of him taking it and escorting me to my truck. Just as he got within range his cell phone rang and he looked at the caller ID, picked up the call, spun around his back to me and said 'hey baby what you up to!?'.
Ok pause for a minute. I AM NOT MAKING ANY OF THIS UP OR EXAGGERATING THIS ALL REALLY HAPPENED. Wait there's more!
So at that point I did what a man at his wits end would do, go talk to the 'new guy that don't know nothin'. As I approached the new guy I noticed he was pretty buffed and tatted up. I wasn't afraid, because after all I'm invested now 68 minutes in the process. (Yes still counting) The new guy was pleasant and took the papers, looked through them and called out to another lot worker who said 'I looked and I couldn't find it!'
I then calmly suggested to the new guy that I would be happy to take one of those 12 sitting right in front of the door so he went into the big box of keys from earlier, and 'voila' (wala) he pulls out a set of keys, calls the lot guy and with the confidence of a seasoned Budget clerk says 'pull this one around for Mr. Goodrich.'
So I walked back to the back door oven and waited, and waited, and waited, 11 minutes (you know the story) and like magic the truck suddenly appeared right next to the gas pump.
When I got into the van the guy says 'bring it back with the same amount of gas in it'. I looked at the gauge and it was pointing squarely on E. When I asked if he could put a few gallons in before I took off at the gas pump that he was leaning on he says 'oh I don't know if that even work'.
I gently closed the truck door, put the truck in D and hit the gas pedal to the floor.
The End.
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