Wednesday, December 5, 2012

On a Long and Lonesome Highway

She lied to me.  The bitch lied.  Her fuel gauge lies worse than a second-rate political pretender and here's the result:


That's the sound of petrol being exhausted.  Observe the approaching storm clouds.  This is not going to go well!

Yes, that sign is in Greek.  What else would it be (laughs).  Don't expect anyone to babysit your lack of a comprehensive set of language skills!

Actually, this did not turn into a sad story.  Even though I have the worst mobile plan in the Universe, I can reach Mary with it.  She called Harry and he came to pick me up in a truck.  Somewhere in there it had dawned that the fuel gauge was lying and we got some petrol but it still wouldn't start so we put the scoot in the truck and took it into town.  After not very long at all, she was fixed up and even the broken windshield was replaced but that was €35 to fix.  It was worth it as trying to ride in the rain without one is a nightmare.

The ride today was to the dentist and it was such a gas that I'll do it again tomorrow.  She's really doing one hell of a lot very fast.  Part of that is because she is very damn good and she rarely uses novocaine, largely because she knows what she's doing and doesn't have to mask clumsy work by drugging me.

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