Burning Rickety Bridges

So you remember that scene from Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom where they try crossing this crappy bridge at the end of the film. Baddies are approaching from both sides. Below are some alligators. Then Indy cuts the rope. Things turn out well for everyone but the rope and the bad guys. It was one of my very favorite scenes from any Indie flick.

Remember the Bridge Over the River Kwai? You probably don't but let me tell you that thing blew up big time. I think films tend to lend this philosophy: bridges need to be destroyed. Obliterated in fact.

So yesterday I burnt a very rickety bridge. This is a metaphor of course. Remember the utter crappiness of a repair job performed by the Jiffy Rubes on our broken windshield?

Well step 4 went as planned (Deny all responsibility for damage caused by criminal negligence).

Step 5 was only half complete (as usual). Lazies didn't even bother striking me with their hammer.

So when I returned to Jiffy Rubes, they came up with all sorts of excuses. The crack was fixed (no you're looking at a previous crack fixed properly by Carmax: I am talking about the 11 inch crack that was less than a centimeter when you "fixed" it). This isn't a rock chip (it was you greasy monkey; I was there!). No mechanic anywhere guarantees rock chip repairs (well you do because it says so on the back of this receipt).

I proceed to read the guarantee of parts and labor to the greased monkey. At which point the greased up monkey reiterates that rock chips are not covered by the guarantee.

This is where negations went south. I said, "Then you need to get some new [explicative rhyming with luck + ing] lawyers, because that's not what it says on the back of the receipt."

At which point he says not to use that kind of language. He then tells me to leave and walks away to join a group of lingering monkey grease stains. I guess Jiffy Rubes are really protective of their lawyers. . .

Of course at this point reconciliation is impossible (without some sort of "apology" [whatever that is]). The only hope I have is in angering the monkey grease to finish step 5 and win a battery lawsuit.

So I of course use the invective about several dozen more times.

"Nice [beeping] customer service."

"No wonder you [something something-ers] have such a bad reputation."

"[PUCK] Jiffy Lube!"

Rachel wasn't there but I told her what happened. For some reason, she wished I hadn't cursed the tender-eared grease primate.

What an odd conscience to have: he can rip people off but can't handle one simple curse word? Expletive that! That is a bridge worth burning.

P.S. don't tell my bishop I used naughty language.