The trick is to make it look easy on purpose.

19 06 2008

When you know absolutely nothing about something, but a pretty girl requires assistance in that specific area about which you know nothing, the whole idea is to be vague enough to seem knowledgeable but slightly negligent. Pretend like it’s a cakewalk, and behave as if there’s something you’d much rather be doing, like her.

Trust me, it probably works. 

Automotive mechanical problems–or “car stuff” as my girlfriend calls it–do not allow for such tomfoolery. They require results, not just the same old airy bullshit you use to get laid. So, what to do? You could fake your way through it, which could result in hundreds of dollars of damage. It could even result in court costs, after the distressed maiden sues your silly ass for ruining her new Prius.

Then again, there’s that vague chance that one of the two or three things you actually know about cars will be the cause.

Then there’s that even vaguer chance that it will be easily fixable, like with a needle-nose plier. 

Then, at the very end of the spectacle, there’s that infinitesimal chance that you can pull it all off without looking as surprised as you feel when the car actually starts. 

When you’ve done those three things, my friend, and done them before seven in the morning… Well, you sir, have just fucked the rest of your day. It’s all uphill from here.




7 responses

19 06 2008

Yep, the chances of fixing her car are slim and none. Then it happens, “Oh, yea, I’m Mr. Goodwrench alright.” Do you get laid? Nope. She does thank you as she will now be on time for her date with Matt.

20 06 2008
The Schroederist

Well, in the interest of full disclosure, the pretty girl was actually my girlfriend. I’m pretty sure ‘Matt” is going to be dateless tonight.

Matt wouldn’t have much fun on a date with The Girlfriend, anyway, owing in part to the mysterious breakage of both his legs. What a shame. I bet they would have had a good time, too.

23 06 2008

Oh dear Lord. Lady Miss K drives a Prius?

I’m glad you’re getting the Men for Men invitations from Craig’s list. They’ll prove useful when you want to form your Club/Dance/Bluegrass/Metal/Funk revival quartet, all powered by solar amps and hemp.

23 06 2008
The Schroederist

Actually, Her Missness drives a beat-up Mustang much like my own. And you stole that joke from me. I will have my revenge.

24 06 2008

My dear sir. Of course I read your blog. And I will throw your blog’s jokes straight back at your blog, in a merciless circle jerk of jocularity.

I am the joke lamprey. You may think I’m merely cleaning unwanted infectious parasites from your skin, when in fact, I am assimilating humor in order to feed my starving children. My poor, starving, lamprey children. They’re squirmy, but they take after the ex-missus (so she tells me), although they have the mailman’s eyes and surly disposition.

24 06 2008

By the by, I just realized that you might be referring to my post at JuCo. I actually did encounter two more than friendly men this month (one just this weekend, although he didn’t ask for my number. I think he memorized it from my license), and I truly think your blog post inspired my post at JuCo. Fuck. I owe you a real apology.

Plus I owe you either a troll figurine or a commemorative silver dollar.

Send me your invoice. I’ll pay it just as assuredly as I’ve paid the rest of your invoices.

24 06 2008
The Schroederist

I’ll take the Elvis Presley Commemorative Punch Bowl Set. That should set things a-right.

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