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Monday afternoon, one of the construction guys stops at my door and inquires if I’m the proud owner of The Beast. So we chatted for awhile about what a terrific car I own and I cheerfully rattle off its stats and background. A little later he pops his head in again and declares that it was almost backed into by their trailer. And laughs. At which point I solemnly proclaim that if even one drop of its primer paint is harmed, I will cheerfully and single-handedly throttle him within an inch of his careless life. By God, that’s a classic car, people! I’ve since changed my parking spot to avoid possible mishaps and believe me, he noticed and asked me about it. Duh! You almost plowed into my baby, ya dolt, of course I’m going to change spaces! Anyway, I guess we are good buddies now as every time he saunters down our hallway, which is often, (just when does that boy do any physical labor anyway?) he tosses remarks and money offers for it my way or stops and chats. For some reason he thought I was a Packers fan and said something about that team winning the game Monday night. My puzzled look caused him to question my football loyalties by which I then pointed to my Browns mousepad. This saucy pup retorted that if I was a Packers fan and owned The Beast, he would give TBC a run for his money. *snorts coffee out nostrils* I warned him to enjoy the view while he can as my preshus GP should be out of the shop soon and it’ll be goodbye Beast. :)
2 comments:
Well, you'd be even cooler if you were a Packers' fan too.
Just saying. ;)
And I thought The Beast was a monster truck, back when your new co-worker wanted to haul horse-hay in it.
Mixed-uppedly yours
Wombat
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