Memoirs of a Soon-to-Be Former Fat Guy

I write this from the waiting area of Jones Honda.

“Why are you there?” you might say.

I’m here because Mario the Super Honda tried to digest me.

That sounds a lot worse than it is. Basically, I got in the car to head to Lowes for a new toilet fill hose. See, the new toilet I was installing sits a couple inches taller than the old one. Ergo, the hose is a couple inches too short. I got in the car, drove to Lowes, and couldn’t get out of the car. The driver’s side door lock had frozen.

I’ve been locked OUT of a car before, on many occasions, but never locked in. I tried to open the lock multiple times, no dice. So I drove to the dealership where I had to crawl out the passenger side. It wasn’t that bad, once I shoehorned my tubby ass over the center console. Guess that workout stuff is paying off, since I was flexible enough to actually climb out without breaking anything. Bone, car or otherwise.

So, that leads into today’s topic. Stress. As recently as three months ago, I would’ve had a meltdown. Cussing, pounding door with fist, general furiousness. This time, other than some light cussing, I just sucked it up and went to the dealership.

The most stressful part was trying to get ahold of SPW. This happens the one time she doesn’t have her phone, iPad, or is not logged into Facebook, Twitter, or email. Luckily, she eventually got the message and called me. She’s here now, next to me, enjoying the waiting room experience.

We’ll see what they say. Hopefully not too expensive. In the meantime, we will wait.

Oh, and I never did get that toilet hose. Sigh.

Update: Car needs a door latch mechanism. Not too crazy, but they won’t have it until tomorrow. In the meantime, their advice? “If it happens again, keep pressing the button. It will open eventually. And I got the hose.