Woke up early hungover on a Saturday morning to take my car in for routine maintenance. You know the drill, oil change, tire rotation. Basic shit.
Unfortunately a trip to the dealership is never as easy as it should be. Car guys are one of my least favorite demographics of people mostly because they have me by the balls.
I don’t know shit about vehicles and these guys know it. They can smell it a mile away like vultures circling their prey. I might as well have sucker stamped on my forehead when I walk into the body shop. First thing these bags tell me is I need my filters changed and ask me if I want to do it.
I don’t fucking know. These dicks could tell me I need a new transmission and I’d probably go along with it. Car guys are fucking hardos and constantly flex this tiny bit of knowledge advantage they have over you and use it to climb into my wallet. I know a shit ton about the WNBA but you don’t see me being a dick about it.
When my dad was in high school he took a part his sisters car in the garage and put it back together. Some would call him a total fucking weirdo for doing that car guys would consider him a “real man.”
There any many reasons why my dad could feel disappointed in me but me not being able to change tire or my oil has to be at the top of the list. But who cares? Fuck em. I’m the number one refurbished Bowflex salesman in North America with a shit ton of disposable income that can afford the finer things in life like fleshlights and they’re car guys that probably get a boner every time they walk into an Autozone and see an exhaust pipe they want to slide their dick into.
I’m on the dealerships WiFi right now writing this on my phone and I honestly hope they read this blog. Hey assholes, you like what you see????
You want to fuck this thing????
UPDATE: 10:47 AM: still here. These motherfuckers are definitely gang banging my exhaust pipe. Get me out of this hell. Surrounded by boomers in a waiting room that are deep breathing with all the sounds turned on their phones.