I am a generous wife and last week I took Chris's SUV to the nasty Chevy dealership for some long-overdue service. That meant that Syl and I had to hang in the nasty pit of a waiting room at the nasty Chevy dealership. There is a bright, shiny, happy Chevy dealership, but it's way up in, like, Acworth, about a 40-minute drive from my house. I opted for the nasty place that's 5 minutes from home. What can I say? It was nasty, and Syl kept futzing with the nasty M&M dispenser, and then with the nasty vending machine, and the whole experience was just nasty.
And then today I had to take my car to the slightly-less-nasty Mazda dealership for an oil change. It's really not nasty at all - it's just a car dealership that - I am guessing - was designed by men who didn't think that maybe women would be spending time there waiting for their car to be serviced, and maybe those women would be there with a kid or two in tow. And one of those kids ($1 to whoever guesses which kid it was - hint: the one who's already had a skull fracture) would try to climb up the rail on the balcony that overlooks the showroom, and also try to jam her hand up in the vending machine because her cruel, heartless mother wouldn't spring for any animal crackers.
So you know what I did? I took both kids down to the showroom, which was empty because no one is out car shopping on a nasty, snowy, cold day. And I let the kids pile into the back of a Mazda 5. Then I slid the doors closed and let them play in the car while I leaned on the side of the car and played Bejeweled 2 on my iPhone.
Yes, I am That Person. But at least we left the dealership with both kids intact!
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