"Two pantloads of awesome and a fifth of crazy..."

So, it being the end of the month, it was time for my Jeep's 3000 mile service, as well as its annual emissions, safety, dry rot, and hernia inspection. I took it to Bobby Business's Hair Care, Auto, and Tire Centre, which is a local automotive concern specializing in dry rot repair. Bobby's is famous amongst my circle of friends for once having wrecked Texas Glen's vehicle during routine automotive service that I assume--although I am not a certified mechanic--must have gone horribly awry.

At any rate, as I was sitting there enjoying my second hour of waiting, the door to the room I was in opened. I stirred myself from my I-got-up-early-to-bring-this-in-but-now-I've-been-waiting-a-long-time stupor and looked over, desperately hoping it was the service advisor. The first thing I saw surprised me. It was a tiny, fluffy white dog. Attached to the dog by a pink leash--and being pulled along behind it--was a late-40s-to-early-50ish, white-haired, short older woman. She totally reminded me of Delores Umbridge... Not physically, mind you, but her attitude was a perfect match.

So Delores gets to her chair and immediately asks the service advisor who followed her in to get her a Diet Coke. He pauses for just a split-second with a look of mild surprise on his face, but to his credit (he's a pretty nice guy, really) goes to get her one. After he hands her the can and walks off, she mutters, "I wonder what time it is." I check and tell her the time. She responds by muttering to herself in her Delores-Umbridge sing-song voice, "I'm getting a GREAT jump on today!"

Now the dealership has a computer with an sign sitting next to it that advertises, "Find your Car's True Trade-In Value!" She notices it and then the following exchange occurs.

Delores: (Mutters to self.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Louder.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Louder.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Loud enough to be heard by the staff employees sitting across the room.) "Hey! They never told me my car's trade-in value!"

Cheerful Girl Behind Counter: (Smiling.) "Oh? Well, you are welcome to use this computer to go online and check that."

Delores: (Eyes the keyboard suspiciously.) "Are there buttons? Would I have to push buttons? Because I don't know how to do that."

CGBC: "Uhh... Oh! Well, I'd be happy to help you!"

CGBC then comes around the counter and tries to get the computer to work. The Internet connection is down. She tells Delores that the computer doesn't work and Delores sits down.

Five minutes pass...

Delores: (Mutters to self.) How long can it take to have a key made? I've been here for over an hour!

While I am internally cackling with glee about how Delores made a big deal about finding her car's trade-in value when she is really there to get a key, she starts talking to me. Apparently, she is having a key made because she lost her purse in a store. She found her purse at home, but by that time, all of her credit cards had been cancelled. It is really inconvenient for her because she has to pay by check until she gets new cards and no one takes checks anymore. She's not even sure the dealership will take them.

After she gets done talking to me, she starts to say under her voice, just loud enough for CGBC to hear her, "My goodness! How long can it take to have a key made? I just can't believe this! And they never even told me my car's trade-in value! Oh well, I guess it is the trials in life that make you stronger! And they're not even paying attention to me! No one listens anymore!"

At this point, I am tired of hearing Delores passive-agressively complain about her car's trade-in value, so I walk over to the computer, full nerd swagger. I check some stuff and realize that the person that used it last tried to connect to someone else's wireless access point and it had no signal. I connect it to Bobby Business's WAP, tell CGBC that if she just types in the WAP password, they'll be back in business. I am hopeful because CGBC appears to be around 25, so I figure she will have some knowledge of computers and won't be afraid of buttons. She looks at me with a smile and a blank stare. I repeat what happened and she says, "Oh great! Thanks!" with the same vacant look in her eyes. Meanwhile, Delores has come up behind me to find out her car's true trade-in value, which apparently is a critical piece of information to have if you're getting a key made for it.

I am just lamenting the fact that I willingly waded into the middle of this, when the service advisor walks in, says I'm good-to-go but I really should have my U-joint replaced at some point so I don't die in a horrible accident (apparently, it has totally been corroded by dry rot), and hands me my keys. Without even asking for any further detail, I hand over my credit card, sign the receipt "S" and half of an "H" for speed and walk out of there as fast as I can, but not before Delores's dog knocks over some other chick's 32-ouncer for the win.

Oh well, at least it looks like I am getting a GREAT jump on today.