I had a doctor's appointment at Good Sam Hospital on Friday morning.
Didn't want to go, but duty bid me do it.
Jeff came too.
Probably just to make sure that I actually went.
We were planning a nice lunch together at Quizno's.
Time spent waiting in doctor's office: ONE HOUR.
Detoured over the west hills of Portland on the way home.
It was a pleasant drive, guided by TomTom.
Left a package at a friend's apartment.
Tried to start the car.
Nothing.
Tried again.
Still nothing.
Called favourite mechanic.
His name is Bruce and you can't have him.
Unless you already do.
He said, "Sounds like the fuel pump. Hit on the gas tank and maybe it will get you home."
Jeff pounded on the gas tank with a rock.
It got us to the end of the driveway.
Called insurance company.
Time spent on phone arranging a tow: TEN MINUTES
Time spent waiting for tow truck: ONE HOUR.
Time spent waiting for driver to hoist the car onto his flatbed: HALF AN HOUR.
Drive home in a very bumpy, smelly tow truck: ONE HOUR.
Time spent shopping on the way home as planned: ZERO HOURS.
Time Jeff got home from work after all the delays: ELEVEN O'CLOCK PM.
Money paid to tow company over the covered amount: THIRTY DOLLARS.
Number of delicious Quizno's chicken carbonara sandwiches eaten by ME on Friday: ZERO
Phooey.
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