Momma needs a new tire, where you gonna find a new tire at 5:45 PM. It's 6: PM I walk in, my first mistake. One customer waits at the counter, I'm feeling good about this, this alone should of been my first clue. I spot a man and a woman off to the side but did not concern me as they were not near the check out. One with the look of a sophomore high school student walks behind the counter, motions to the two that were standing off to the side Eastern Indian in appearance. They go back over to where they previously had been waiting the man produces a receipt. I have changed my first evaluation, to now not looking good for fear of not being acknowledged. I have now been demoted to third. I grew up in a time where customers was looked at spoken to and would say even if they were busy. I will be right with you and some would say Sir. I do not expect common courtesy in the world of today and although grudgingly will bequeath that. It's the look right through you cavalier attitude I have grown to dislike. I will accomplish my mission even if it test me, cause Momma must get a new tire she has sisters have family plans for tomorrow in Nashville and I as her squeeze will successfully accomplish my mission no matter the casualties to me or the enemy.
The young man picks something up behind the counter and disappears with the man and woman. Ten minutes into insanity and wishing to be helped, suddenly a man in blue appears and helps the one before me. Chewing gum as if it was a tough steak. He goes to working on one of them hand held brain gadgets they stick with a large needle. After going in and out the door half a dozen times he scans a piece of paper holding a bar code. I am know first and have lost only 20 minutes of life. Gumman get keys, goes through the door and returns in 5 minutes. He then goes into the tire pits of hell and returns carrying one tire. He takes the tire into the "L. O. T. L. LAND OF THE LOST." Why, I see little going on in back. He reappears and I am acknowledged "is the manager trainee helping you", to which I reply "no he picked up your brain thing and left." Gumman poking the other brain says "he left me the bad one." He keeps poking the brain thing, poking and asking me questions. That little brain needs knowledge, he grows frustrated and his gum chewing pace increases. The wonderboy manager comes back in and hangs on to his brain. Gumman tells him "you are going to have to requisition a new one." I think hell yeah you been a-pokin the little brain non-stop for 5 minutes no wonder it don't want to work. I know have lost 35 minutes of my life observing highly skilled craftsmen walk through doors carrying one tire and poking a little brain too near death. I ask "what do you call that thing?" "TROUBLE" Gumman says. I'll give it to Gunman he were a determined one. He goes through the door asking me "which one." "The first van through the door" I laugh. He is now taking the other end of the little brain getting my V. I. N. number. That end must not be working any better than the other end. You poke any brain for 5 minutes with a big needle and see if the other end function properly. He appears to be the most stick too it man I have ever seen. He comes back to me 'what kind of tire do you want" "one just like is on there." he goes back through the door and comes back in asking me to sign the little brain. After 40 minutes of watching grown men play poke the game videos I'm plum wore out.
Not having any supper I get a bag of M &M's a notebook and 2 pencils. I wish to chronicle my escapades and do it while it is still fresh. I return to the one waiting bench. I reassured myself the hard part was over until I set my big butt on the hardest bench I have ever had the misfortune to set on. (By the way I got peanut M&M's seemed more appropriate.) Not that I haven't been annoyed enough one itty bitty bug keeps landing on my notebook and all attempts at putting him out of my pain have gone without success as it seems destined to be one of those days. I now mention total darkness has now reached in amusing myself. Time has now picked in pace verses watching men disappearing into the land of the lost and poking a little brain. I have written every peek and poke down in my diary of silly activity here today. By the way my last M&M was blue. Managee Trainee, remember him. Mr. Gumman was troubled because he took the one good little brain and he was taking his frustration out on the handicapped other little brain by trying to poke it too death. (You have to stay with me folks if you like I wish this year in recap in cuckooville to end) From the land of the lost Managee Trainee says "your ready" "your righta, I'm ready." I'm now worried what If I get the handicapped little brain again I can't go through that much poking of the little brain fella again I'll go to pieces and pick him up and say I love you little guy even if them lost souls don't come home with me I will see to it that you never get poked again. No it is just like 7-11 now zip right out