7/07/2006

Fuck Happy People

Tires. If you've ever owned a bicycle or motorized vehicle, surely you're familiar with them. They're round and black. Air on the inside, rubber on the outside. They're an important safety feature, and I like to keep at least two or three of them on the DyckMobile at all times. But I've been driving on only one tire for the past year now - it was bald, it was flat, and it had a big hole in it...much like my first wife. Fearing it may not pass Dyckersonville's tough inspection criteria, yesterday I got up bright and early and took the DyckMobile to the local Wal-Mart's Tire, Lube, & Abortion Shoppe.

The cashier couldn't have been more of a bitch if she tried. She clearly did not care for me or her stinking job. But you know what? I kinda like that. I like that because it's normal. I mean, here is a woman who probably sees more tires and aborted fetuses in one day than I see in...well, two days. Why wouldn't she be in a pissy mood? In fact, if she were anything but a total bitch, I'd be worried. So I had no problem with her.

No, my problem lied with the freak in the waiting room. Let me ask you. Have you ever met someone who was so goddamn perky and cheerful that you wanted to smack the living shit out of them? If you answered yes, you are not alone.

"Hiiiiiiii!!!!!!" she said as I sat down. "Beautiful morning, isn't it??!! I'm getting my oil changed!!!!!!"

She was a fat woman. Fat and ugly. And she was gobbling up Burger King french toast sticks like there was no tomorrow. There was a moving picture box mounted on the wall, and it was tuned in to one of those godawful morning shows...one where hordes of people gather on sidewalks behind concrete barriers in hopes of being asked where they are from.

I paid little attention to the fat woman or the morning show, as I was still half-asleep. Instead, I took a seat, closed my eyes, and slowly drifted into dreamland........

"AAAHHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I was immediately startled awake by the high-pitched laughter of some strange creature. "What the fuck was that??!" I asked myself. "Has a wild lemur escaped from the zoo and sought refuge here inside Wal-Mart's Tire, Lube, & Abortion Shoppe??!" I looked around, and no wild lemur was to be found. Turns out the noise was emanating from the fat woman...she was cackling and pointing at the TV with a french toast stick. It was weather boy Al Roker, and he was trying on a hat that belonged to an audience member.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I turned to the fat woman. Then I turned to the TV. Fat woman. TV. Fat woman. TV. Then it clicked in my mind: The fat woman is actually amused at the sight of Al Roker wearing a strange hat. I was speechless.

Too tired to care, I shut my eyes and tried to block out this embarrassing display. As soon as I dozed off, a commercial came on. The ad was for cat food, and it featured...what else...a talking cat.

"BWWAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I swear to God, I thought she was going to choke to death on a french toast stick. The way she was carrying on, you'd think she just saw the Pope pull a chocolate bunny out of Bea Arthur's twat.

At this point, I was looking for a hidden camera. I figured that bald bastard Alan Funt had to be behind this. I mean, no sane adult could possibly find this crap amusing...especially while stranded in a Tire, Lube, & Abortion Shoppe at 7:00 in the fucking morning. But alas, there was no camera to be found.

Now the morning show is back on. They're doing a segment on new toys, and some guy in a suit is playing with a radio-controlled robot. Only the guy in the suit doesn't know what he's doing, so the robot is crashing into the set.

"AAAHHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!"

That was the last straw. There was a pot of complimentary coffee simmering on a table in the corner. I grabbed the pot, removed the lid, and poured the scalding hot contents onto her lap. Or in her case, the area where her lap would be if she weren't so damned fat. Then, before she could react, I grabbed her carton of greasy, syrupy french toast sticks and smashed them in her face.

"AAAAHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I enjoyed the rest of my wait in peace, and the tires looked great.


6 comments:

~ Stacy ~ said...

Wal-Mart. I'm headed there for tires as well, tomorrow morning. If they weren't the best deal in town... blah, blah, blah. Just be sure to check your lugnuts before doing 80 down the freeway. The fuckers forgot to tighten mine up on the last set.

tfg said...

So, did you get her number?

Anonymous said...

Good for you! Now she can't breed.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Stacy - Why don't you come over and check my lug nuts...and then we can do 69! ;)

TFG - Yeah, I got her number alright. Size 28.

Willo Keays said...

Is it fat women that you have issues with - or just HAPPY women. I need to know - our entire online relationship depends on it.

Manola Blablablanik said...

At least she floats ... she's got a rubber tire!