Just FYI

by

I’ve decided it is not a good thing to be on a first-name basis with the guy at the Volvo garage. I mean, it’s nice that we’re not antagonistic towards one another, but every time I hang up with the guy, I always feel like I’ve been buttered up. Like I’m one of his biggest accounts. Christ, I probably am.

I keep toying with the idea of tallying up all the repair costs for this car since we got it, but I know that would only make me want to gut myself with a dull bread knife. We tossed around the idea of getting a new car, but I really don’t see any way to afford that right now. I’m more inclined to drive this thing until it dies, which no doubt will be during a blizzard in the middle of the night on the darkest, loneliest, most God-forsaken stretch of road in the world.

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