Short but dumb conversation I had yesterday late afternoon.

DumbAssCustomer: Hi, my name is Stupid McFuckhead and I was supposed to have an appointment to bring my car in today...

Me: (interrupting) Actually, Miss McFuckhead you DID have an appointment scheduled today but you did NOT show up for the appointment.

DAC: That's what I said, I was supposed...

Me: (interrupting again) No ma'am you said you were 'supposed to have an appointment', but I think what you meant was someone scheduled an appointment for you and you declined to keep the appointment.

DAC: What's the difference?

Me: The difference is reality versus imaginary. Managed time versus wasted time. The perceived value of our time versus your time. Our time is valuable therefore we schedule and manage our time so it isn't wasted.

DAC: I don't understand.

Me: I'm sure you don't.

DAC: Can I bring my car in tomorrow?

Me: I think that should be MY question to you.

DAC: What?

Me: Nevermind. (Dumbass)

This is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the moronic motherfuckers who are my customers.

DumbAss Customer enters my establishment and following exchange takes place:

DAC: My car has a really strong smell inside.
Me: Ok, can you describe the smell and when does it occur?
DAC: It smells like a really strong chemical smell like a cleaner or nail polish or something.
Me: Ok, does it smell all the time or does it occur intermittently?
DAC: It smells all the time for the last few days, it's really strong. I've looked everywhere and I can't figure it out.
Me: Well, let us check it out and I'll let you know what we find.

Fast forward a couple of hours:

Qualified Automotive Technician: Hey, SeanAlmightyDamn, you gotta see this.
Me: What's up?
QAT: You know that car with the strong chemical smell?
Me: Yeah, what did you find?
QAT: Is this lady stupid or something?
Me: QAT, you know most customers are morons, why do you ask?
QAT: Well, you said she described the smell as a strong chemical smell like maybe turpentine?
Me: Yes, that's what she said.
QAT: Did she even look for the cause of this terrible smell?
Me: She said she looked everywhere, why?
QAT: I just found and empty bottle of mineral spirits under the driver's seat. Oh, yeah here's the cap that's supposed to go on top of the bottle.
Me: I guess that accounts for the "mysterious" smell. Fucking dumbasses.

Recent DumbAss Customer call:

DAC: "What are your hours?"

Me: "We are open Monday through Friday, eight to six, by appointment."

DAC: "Do I need an appointment?"

Me: "Only to have your car serviced."

DAC: "Oh. Are you open Saturdays?"

Me: "Only for rituals."

DAC: "What?"

Me: "Nothing."

Man, I wish I could shock people through the phone. Fucking dumbasses.

I decided I need to start recording the amazingly dumbass questions that customers ask because they are so frequent that sometimes I forget. Here's today's dumbass exchange:

DumbAss Customer: "My check engine light came on, what do you think that is?"

Me: "I don't know sir, I will need to evaluate the vehicle first." (because I'm not the fucking car whisperer, moron)

DAC: "Do you think the light came on because the car is overheating?"

Me: "Is your vehicle overheating, sir?"

DAC: "No."

(pause. pause. pause)

Me: "Sir, is there a punchline?"

DAC: "I don't understand."

Me: "I don't either." (Fucktard)

What the fuck is up with motherfuckers putting lemon in sweet tea? Holy fuck, which one of you carpetbaggers hatched this plan? Sweet tea should be sweet as hell and have plenty of ice. That is it. Done. This must some kind of yankee plot. I'm on to you assholes now. Who the hell likes that crap?

Anyone who serves you sweet tea and doesn't tell you it's some kind of fucktarded lemon flavored so-called sweet tea should be marched into the Georgia backwoods and beaten about the arms and legs with a switch. One that they had to cut for themselves.

Lemon motherfucking tea. I wouldn't serve that shit to communist, french, hippy, midgets from knewyourkseaty. Damn.

(Yankees are probably wondering what the hell a switch is right about now.)

Eatitwhores.

I can't stop laughing about finding a dead fucking cat in my front yard this very afternoon. What the fuck? The best part was I didn't find the cat. My brother/best friend Joe did. There's nothing like having your best friend show up and your house and the first thing out of his mouth is: "hey dude, did you know there's a dead cat in your yard?" Fucking priceless. Of course I didn't know there's a dead fucking cat in my yard. Do you think I would have left that sumbitch lying in my front yard? Where the fuck did a dead cat come from? Why is it in my yard? What should we do with it? Hmmm.....

Joe doesn't like cats at all. You could say he hates cats. So, of course, first thing we had to do was take pictures of the cat. Joe asked if he could have his picture taken with the dead cat. Certainly, who wouldn't want some pictures modeling with a dead cat? Our dogs wanted to play with the kitty so we had to dispose of the corpse after just a few poses. Made my day, though. Funny shit.


Eat it whores.

My boss is a pretty good guy for a clinton loving communist. That being said he does a lot of shit that just irritates the fuck out of me. I'm sure everyone's boss is the same but this is my blog so shut the fuck up about your boss, asshole. Anyway, so one of my boss' most annoying traits is not admitting to being wrong. We all get something wrong sometime, even me. When I say he doesn't admit to being wrong I don't mean all the time and in every situation (he likes the clintons but he isn't one of them). When it comes to cars and politics he just won't budge even when faced with cold hard facts (I know, a stubborn liberal?) There are some things that everyone gets stubborn and short sighted about surely. I will freely admit when I make a mistake (at work) because I think that's the honest thing to do and because spending time placing blame or making excuses is a waste of time escpecially when people are working toward a common goal (servicing people's cars and making money). So, having worked for the same employer for over seven years now I know him pretty well and I can easily predict what his reaction will be to almost any work situation. This is greatly amusing to everyone at work because of my amazing accuracy. Here's todays example of stubborn pride.

At my shop we have policies about how work is to be performed and certain procedures to be followed. Not any different from anyone in business, I'm sure. My boss wants everything done his way and anyone else's way is most likely wrong and convincing him otherwise is extremely difficult. That's fine because I'm used to it by now. The annoying part comes when my boss doesn't follow his own procedures and it happens all the time lately. We have a policy and procedure for inspecting a vehicle's brake system. All four wheels should be removed and the brake system at each wheel is to be cleaned, inspected and the brake pad and/or shoe material should be measured. Also the brake master cylinder and all brake lines get inspected. There are reasons for each of these procedures and there is also a corresponding incident with some dumbass who didn't follow the procedure. My boss is really bad about breaking his own rules and I'm really good at pointing out every time he does. Because I'm a smartass and currently not expendable.

For some time now my boss has been trying to feel useful and make it appear that he's helping out in the shop. But with a growing frequency he has been making judgements on vehicles without completely inspecting them. This is most annoying when there is a technician available that could make a complete and thorough evaluation that doesn't piss me off. The worst offense is guessing on the brakes because he is almost always wrong. Pretty much whatever he says the brakes need is the exact fucking opposite of reality. Cars that supposedly need front pads never do once I've ordered the parts and the technician prepares to install the parts. This makes us both angry. A vehicle that has been diagnosed as not having a brake problem usually does. This doesn't anger the tech as much but it makes me furious. Today the dumbass boss test drove a vehicle that was in for a brake inspection and determined that the brakes were fine. When asked by the smartass who orders the parts (that's me) what the brake material measurement was, he mumbled that he "saw the pads through the wheel and they were fine". "Through the wheel?" "You didn't take the wheels off?" "No", he replied, "I don't even know what this guy is complaining about." "Didn't you check him in this morning?", I ask. "Yes", he replied, "but I didn't ask why he wanted the brakes checked so he probably just heard some squeak last week or something". "Ummm, how did you check the rear brakes?" You can't see them without the wheels off, it's impossible. "Well", he replied, "the parking brake feels fine so they're probably fine." I advise the technician that the vehicle will probably need front and rear brakes and to let me know after he properly inspects the vehicle. So later in the day the technician pulls the wheels off the vehicle as part of the 60,000 mile service and guess what he finds? The car needs brakes. The front and rear. Of course my boss finds this incredibly hard to believe because bedwetting libs often find facts inconvenient. Even after watching the technician measure the front brakes my boss remarks that only one (out of four) of the pads is at the replacement measurement. The tech and I both look at him with a mixture of amazement and disgust. At that point I ask, "should I tell the customer not to use that one brake pad?" That's when the technician asks, "do you ever get tired of being right all the time?" Yes. Sometimes I do.

Eat it whores.

Do you ever wonder what people are saying about you when you go somewhere? Anywhere. Restaurants, barber shop, hair salon, nail salon, your doctor or dentist office. If you work in an industry that is retail or in some way directly deals with customers you know what I'm talking about. You know you talk shit about your customers, clients, patients, whatever. We all do. Some people probably don't care and never worry about what other people say about them behind their backs. For the most part I don't care unless it's someone I know or knows my family. Otherwise, fuck them.

In the auto repair industry we definitely talk shit about our customers. Not all of them, of course. There are some customers that I genuinely like and don't irritate the ever loving shit out of me. But there are a ton who get under my skin by being dumbasses or being assholes. Many of these dumbass assholes have been chronicaled on this craptastic blog. Here's the latest with a new little twist. I got caught in the act.

So, earlier today I had these two guys bring a vehicle in for a pre-purchase inspection. One guy was the owner and the other was the prospective buyer. While talking to the two fellows and opening a repair order I hear someone outside talking. It's some woman, apparently the wife or girlfriend of my customers, talking to some latino gentlemen who were working on the landscaping in front of our building. I thought this was pretty fucking weird because these guys are busy working and this crazy chick just walks right up and starts chatting about who knows what. Strange, but so far o.k. So, I write up the repair order, ask if they are waiting (they are, of course) and tell them it will take about one hour. A few minutes later the front office door chimes. It does this every time someone opens the door. Every time someone opens the door, I have to go see if it's a new customer at the counter or just one of the waiters going outside to smoke or whatever. This is not particularly enjoyable for me. In fact, it irritates the fuck out of me when the same person goes in and out the fucking door several times for no apparent reason. Just sit the fuck down. I go to see what the situation is and find the chick outside again talking to the workers fixing our landscaping and drainage problems. This is getting annoying. I go back to work. A few minutes later the door chimes again. I get up and go look. Again. It's the chick coming back inside. Again. Fuck.

Two or three minutes goes by and the front door chimes. This time I see, from the window beside my desk, the woman walking across the parking lot headed toward the building next door that is currently empty and without a tenant. I watch her walk to the door and try to turn the knob. It's locked of course but I wonder what in the hell she's doing over there. Who tries to go into random buildings that obviously aren't being used and obviously they have no business fucking with? I begin to suspect severe fucktardation.

I go into the shop to tell my buddy Mike, who is inspecting the vehicle that the woman's husband is thinking of buying, about the crazy crap this woman is pulling. We discuss how weird it all seems and he asks if she's some kind of retard and I told him she didn't have that Corky looking face but I guess it's still possible. That's when I see Mike's face change and his eyes got real wide as a shadow fell across his body. It was the fucktard woman. Standing in the door of my shop. My shop where customers are absolutely not allowed unless invited and escorted. What the fuck? She asks if she can watch the inspection and I tell her no one is allowed in the shop because of insurance regulations. She takes a step back and asks if that is o.k. No, jackass, you have to go back outside the fence you passed through and stay out there.

She leaves and Mike starts dying laughing because it's obvious that she had to hear the two of us discussing how crazy and fucktarded she was acting. For a moment I feel bad that she overheard us and then I remember that she's the dumbass weirdo. Oh well. That's why you aren't supposed to look behind the curtain, moron.


Eat it whores

For the past few weeks I have been dealing with some people who are quickly earning their own chapter in the book of stupid fucking morons (due in stores Christmas 2010) - the morons in question? People that work in doctor's offices. Holy fucking incompetent dumbshits Batman! Let's make a list of some of the annoying, stupid, ingnorant, dumbfuck things these people have done lately:


1-People (usually women) who work for doctors have trouble reading ten digit number sequences. Why did I bother to list my contact phone numbers when filling out the numerous stupid fucking forms at every single fucking turn? I have no idea because the stupid motherfuckers in doctor's offices call my cell phone number every fucking time. That's not the contact number I listed, dumbshit. That was listed as a secondary number that some fuckstick idiot insisted was necessary. Why? Anyone calling from a doctor's office will be calling during the day, right? Those dipshits don't ever call patients on the weekends or any other time that most people wouldn't be working so a daytime contact is all that should be needed anyway. I have a job jackass, that's why I listed my fucking work number as the best number to reach me.


2-After approaching the little window at the doctor's office the following exchange took place with the brain-dead office worker bitch:

Me: Hello, I'm here for a 3:30 physical therapy appointment.
BDOWB: What's your last name?
Me:AlmightyDamn.
BDOWB:(searching through numerous files beside and behind her) I don't see your appointment.
Me: Well, someone here called my wrong contact number and left a reminder message yesterday.
BDOWB: What?
Me: Nevermind.
BDOWB:(stupidly excited) OH! Here it is! (Right fucking in front of her). Oh, you're here for physical therapy!
Me:(turn to look behind myself) (no one is there) Yes. Yes I am. (shit eating grin and look of amazement on my face).
BDOWB: Sign in here (gives me the official clipboard with official typed sign in sheet)
Me:(Sign and hand back) Here you go. Oh, and "physical" is spelled wrong.
BDOWB: What?
Me:Nevermind.(counting to ten) It's not worth it.

More later. "Eat it whores"

Where I work there is a business down the street who sells used auto parts for the same automotive brand that my business services. An every day occurence at my business is fielding several daily phone calls for parts that I pass along to the intended recipient down the street since I don't sell parts. Most people simply apologize and thank me for supplying the correct phone number with a 'good day'. Some dumb sonofabitches are too fucking stupid for that. The most recent glaringly stupid fucking retardo exchange went like this:

Me- Good morning CommonSenseAuto, how can I help you?
Retardo-Yeah, how you doin?
Me- I'm fine.
Retardo - Yeauhhh, I need an alternabator for a ...
Me- (cutting retardo off) Sir, I don't sell any parts.
Retardo - You don't sell parts?
Me- No sir. If you are looking for a used part I suggest you call
these people at 666-6666.
Retardo - That's the number I called.
Me - No sir, you called me remember? That's not our phone
number so you couldn't have dialed that number.
Retardo - Are you sure? That's the number I dialed.
Me - Sir, I am sure you didn't dial that number because then we
wouldn't be speaking and I would not be getting dumber
every second I speak to you, you dumb fucking fuck! It is
completely impossible dumbass! Do you even understand
how that phone works moron?