The "My Wife Warned Me!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Looked for the pastries and when I didn't find them I grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge, a few magazines and the morning newspaper and headed to the chair back in the corner of the busy couple of rooms that make up the waiting area of Jones Honda.  My car inspection is due this month and I figured I might as well get it taken care of as soon as I could.  Called for an appointment and two days later I am sitting in the waiting area.  Jones Honda values their customers so they make sure you are comfortable with snacks and drinks in a nice environment with TV and reading materials.  They almost always have a big selection of pasties, but being it is past noon and they appeared to be busy, my favorite cream-filled donuts have been already consumed.  I sat next to another male customer and said hello before I checked out the baseball scores from the previous day.  My stay, I was told, was to be about an hour for inspection and emission testing.  After about 20 minutes of reading an older women, about my age, walked into the room using a cane and having rather bulky supports of some sort on her legs and found a seat across from me.  She immediately began to complain to the young woman seated next to her about the fact that there were no pastries to sample while she waited.  After not being acknowledged, she began talking to anyone who would listen to her.  Shortly a Jones tech sat down on the other side of her and told her she would need new brakes to pass inspection.  She was ready for him, pulling out her bill from what I assume was last year's inspection and showing him she had new brakes last year and was told they would last for some time with normal use.  She couldn't understand why the car needed brakes once again, getting belligerent with the poor young man.  I turned to the guy next to me and quietly, or so I thought it was quielty, said, "I'll bet she drives with her left foot on the brake pedal."  "Well, how am I supposed to drive the car?" she yelled at me from across the room.  I raised the magazine in front of my face at that point as she was back at it with the tech.  In no time the tech told her he would get someone else to talk with her as I gathered my reading material and headed to the TV area to avoid any conflict.  Another poor Jones tech passed me on his way to visit with her and my tech arrived shortly to tell me my car was finished.  As I entered the area to pay my bill, the first tech was sitting at his desk, still stunned with his experience.  I said, "You've had a rough day so far."  He laughed and said, "She wasn't going to listen to anything I had to say to her.  Sorry she yelled at you!"  "That's OK," I replied to him.  "My wife always warned me that I talk louder than I think I do and I now know what she means."  The young man who took my payment thanked me that I was his client today and not the other woman who was on her second tech.  He said they usually get one customer a week like her that at times is hard to reason with.  Told them I'd be back in a few months for an oil change and would keep my mouth closed next time.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.