Thursday, August 14, 2008

Conversations This Morning

Me: I need prescriptions for both dogs’ meds.
Vet Clerk: Why?
Me: *patiently * Because we’ve already paid for them, and 1-800-Pet Meds says that your office wouldn’t give the okay for their office to send them. They need those prescriptions if you won’t okay the fax.
Vet Clerk: Doctor doesn’t like using them. Their meds are inferior and they get them from China or some place.
Me: *stifling an urge to call bullshit* Then Doctor needs to lower his prices by $75 for me.
Vet Clerk: Well, we can mail them to you.
Me: No, I’ve tried that. I’ll wait.
Vet Clerk: Doctor is very busy this morning.
Me: I just saw him and paid him $74 for two heartworm tests on these dogs. I’ll wait.
Vet Clerk: Just a minute. *she walks behind the doorway then comes back* The doctor is taking an X-ray at the moment.
Me: *all but shouting bullshit at this point* He’s behind that partition—his shoes are showing while he stands there eavesdropping when he could be out here doing his own dirty work. I’ll WAIT.

Vet Clerk: Just a minute. *she waddles back to the partition and comes back* It’ll be a few minutes.
Me: That’s fine. I’ll wait.
Vet Clerk: Maybe even several minutes.
Me: I’ll stay here until you close if I have to, but I’m not leaving without those ‘scripts.
Vet Clerk: *defeatedly* Fine. Have a seat.
Me: I’ll stand outside. I want a cigarette.
Vet Clerk: It’s raining.
Me: Well, unless you have a ‘script to stop it, I guess it’ll just keep raining. (And I'm thinking P
ush it, and I’ll picket your ass.)
Vet Clerk: (looking past my shoulder) Next?

Vet Clerk doesn’t want to deal with me again so sends out one of the pet groomers with the ‘scripts later when they see me headed for the door. Ask me if I give a damn.

Me: (on the phone to #1 Son) We’re at the dealership, and they found out what’s wrong with Lola (the car).
Son: What?
Me: Rodents.
Son: Pardon me?
Me: We have mice or rats or squirrels under the hood chewing the wires, and they’re building a nest in the engine.
Son: (yelping) You’re kidding, right?
Me: Oh, I wish.
Son: Our insurance won’t cover that!
James the Mechanic: (who can hear my son and shakes his head) Nope.
Me: They’re waiving the diagnostic fee if you go ahead and get the tune-up done today. It’s due now anyway, and they’re already under her hood.
Son: So what do I need to do, find Mother Nature Insurance in case this happens again? Shit!
Me: *mouthing gratefully, to mechanic* Thank you. *then calmly speaking to son* We’ll pick you up in the rental car at four o’clock. Have a Coke and a smile and plan on cleaning out the garage tonight so Lola won’t have to brave the squirrels tomorrow evening.
Son: What’s this going to cost me?
Me: Two pedicures and dinner.
Son: Smartass, I mean Lola.
Me: I know—I’m just getting the good news out of the way first.


I was awakened and told to phone the vet, tell them we'd be running late. I was told to call somebody else for something I can't remember. I spent an hour battling two hyperactive dogs in the back seat of a car that has been dying for some weird reason then battling same dogs inside the pet clinic and back home in the car.

After that, we went to our regular mechanic who said he hated to turn down business, but we could probably save money since car is under warranty if we took it to the dealership. Then we grabbed a quick burger and went to the dealership.

Waited...waited...had Lola diagnosed then waited for Enterprise to pick us up and take us to their place so we could rent a car for the next twenty-four hours. Went to the grocery store to pick up trash bags.

We live in a very picturesque place, with lots of rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, community cats, families with dogs, a Geritol Avenue coinciding with Young Couples Lane. Don't want to risk killing the next door neighbor's cat just to keep mice off of Lola's engine block.

I need to write, and the Romance Muse has definitely taken a back seat to the Bitch Muse. Maybe it's time to switch genres, if only for a few hours a week - lol.

Hope YOUR day has gone better. - grrrr



At 6:54 AM, Blogger Merry said...

Write this as a story, mouse in heroine's car, hero comes to the rescue! Foundation of good romance!

BTW, the two mice in my car ate the pastic off the back of the wheelwells.

Then they shit in my front seat, just because they could.

Richard took 'em out with a Have-A-Hart trap and peanut butter because Jenny freaked about killing the little pests. Right after we released one, her cat tromped out to the field and caught it, dragging its lifeless, bloody body home to deposit on the kitchen floor.

At 12:37 PM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

omg - roflmao! you're not yanking my chain, are you? "have a hart" MOUSE TRAP??????

poor jenny.

At 8:27 PM, Blogger Michele said...

That beats my mouse story hands down.
My mouse scared the crap out of me while driving.
I'm going along when out pops the head of the mouse and he climbs UP the windshield and STARES at me!

No lie, AS I DRIVE.

Two weeks later, I go to pick up my son from the sitter and I had to park in a different spot from where I usually do in the mornings.
There, were one of my tires would have been was the flattened mouse.

Seems when the car stopped, the furry thing thought I was home and went to explore for food, I guess.
Or, he was coming back from foraging, either way, Im sure his little mouse legs were going a mile a minute trying to keep up with the rotation of the wheel before he lost.

Forgive me if I laugh at the visual. I still think it's funny.

At 7:04 AM, Blogger Beth said...

Some days are like that.
A sense of humour and a potty mouth (and the ability to use it) help!

At 12:03 PM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

I'm slow in reading what others have posted. Howling here, Michele - aaaaack.

You got it, Beth - LOL. As long as others don't mind my mouth, I don't. *hehehe*


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