Sketchy Guy, Rollin’ Eye and The Jack Leg Mechanic.

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So…my car battery died again today. Now I HAVE to buy a new battery.

My father in-law has a friend who owns a mechanic shop. His friend seems cool. It’s his son that always tries to rip me off every time I go there. His son and I have had words before. Believe me when I say it got ugly. I swore I’d never go back there again.

I went there today because my father in law said that his friend told me it would be about $35 for a refurbished battery. I’d shopped around and a new one cost, for the cheapest option, about $112 dollars.  So, $35 sounded like a pretty good price to me since I was looking to save money.

I got there and the dad checks my car.  It’d actually started to overheat so he said let it cool off for a while. A short while later, I see and hear someone working on my car. Assuming it was him, I got out to ask a couple of questions. It’s not him. It’s some other guy who is unfamiliar to me and kinda sketchy looking.

Sketchy guy starts telling me I the battery’s dead, which I know, and proceeds to try and sell me an alternator. I’m like how much is that and he says he has to make a call. So, I’m waiting for him to come back and tell me the cost. When he returns, sometime later, he says just for the part it’ll be $279 and labor will be more. So, I tell him to just give me the refurbished battery and ask him for the price, just too clarify. He says that he has to go find out. Mind you, my father in-law had already told me it would be about $35.

Dude comes back with a price of $70. That’s right. $70.

I told him that the owner had quoted me a price of $35. He says he’s going to have to ask the owner because that was the price he was given. While I’m talking to him, some dude that’d worked there when I had that little issue with the son walks by and rolls his eyes like, “Not this bitch”.  I look him like, “Yep. It’s me,” and keep it moving.  So, Sketchy Dude walks away to, I assumed, talk to the owner.

Once again, never assume.

So after a while, I got tired of waiting. I was NOT giving this man $70 for a used battery when a new one cost about $100. I walk to the back of the garage and Sketchy Dude, Rolling Eyes and some other jack leg mechanic guy are sitting around talk *$&#. I simply say, “Hey…can you hook up my battery? I gotta go.” Sketchy’s like, “I thought you were talking to the owner about the price?”

I didn’t even feel like reminding him that he was supposed to be checking on the price. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and get to an auto parts store.

Which I should’ve done in the first place.

Moral of this story?

Girl…If you say you’re never going to a place again. Don’t. It’ll only waste your time and make you want to kick yourself for going through the hassle.


Spring has Broken…lol.


Man…is it over already?

Spring Break came and went so quickly. It seems like just yesterday, we were gearing  up for fun in the sun.

I fell asleep writing this post…so let me switch gears.

Somebody’s kid gave me THE NINJA of instant colds today.

It’s the first day back and I’m in Pre-K. There’s a fire drill. Have you ever tried to get seven autistic children under six in a line and outside while there’s an angry bell ringing?

If you haven’t, reserve comment. lol.

While we’re outside one of my students lets out a huge sneeze. Buggers and snot flew everywhere…then he wiped it on his hands. Little bugger bits were all over his face, shirt, in the air and apparently on me. Something went awry during the drill and we were out in the morning sunlight for awhile.  Imagine…toasted snot. Nice.

But, they’re so adorable. I love these kids. We get back inside and I clean him up with some baby wipes and hand sanitizer because we couldn’t make a pit stop at the restroom.

I was fine until I got home.

My mother in-law got a lead on some properties so we went and looked at some house for a couple of hours. When we got back, I felt a little tired and decided to listen to a binaural and take a nap.

Wow…it’s like the germs were hibernating in me because when I woke up , I felt like a steamy, hot mess.

Pray for me.

I’m the roaming librarian tommorow.


New Jersey Dream…lol.

I had the weirdest, funny dream last night…well, this morning.

I was in bed with my huge, Lou Ferrigno type boyfriend. Don’t ask me why. I’ve never dated a bodybuilder or an Italian …and currently, I don’t even date guys. Go figure.

I had the weirdest, funny dream last night…well, this morning.

I was in bed with my huge, Lou Ferrigno type boyfriend. Don’t ask me why. I’ve never dated a bodybuilder or an Italian …and currently, I don’t even date guys. Go figure.

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So anyway, we’re gettin’ kinda frisky but I have a charity thing to go to in a few.  So, I promise to be back as soon as I can to finish what we’d started. Meaning have sex.

Well, in the dream, I come in for a lunch break figuring he’d be there and we could have some afternoon delight. When I get there, he’s all tired and makes a few excuses. Muscle man has lost the need to get it on. I was confused because he usually likes a little surprise sex.

Now, his ex is one of the girls working this charity with me. We’re taking this group of inner city girls to buy custom made dolls at an American Girl store. Like I said this is a dream. lol.

So the ex and I are kinda cool. Since the afternoon flaccid bologna confused me and since she was there, I started talking to her about it.

Now let me describe her. Extremely tan, like orangey tan, with bleached blonde hair. She’s kind of short and square. Not very attractive in my book and certainly no competition for me. In this dream, I had loads of self-confidence. I never saw myself but I’m sure I looked pretty much the same as I do now. The Ex didn’t even have a name in my dream. She’s just some New Jersey Shore type chick…I guess. I never watched the show but I’ve seen the clips.

Anyway, so she very calmly says that she’d gone over to our condo and I’d already left. He was horny. She gave him a hand job. Her logic was that it was a favor.

It took me a while to fully understand what’d happened because the way she’d said it was so…blasé. You did me a favor by jackin’ off my boyfriend? Hmm…In the immortal words of some ghetto poet, “Where dey do dat at?” I was cool, though. In the dream, I was a little more…cool. But as I was talking to little girls and looking at the dolls, I had an epiphany. I made an announcement that they could choose any non-blonde doll the wanted. The sales clerk and all of the other customers looked at me like I’d just grown another head. That’s right ladies, any doll of color so you better run to the back and stock up these shelves because you’re about to sell out of ethnic dolls.

Now, the real life trashy doll comes over to me. “What are you doing?” she says.  “My boyfriend’s about to buy up every colored doll in this store, honey and I really don’t want to see your ugly, Treasure Troll face so, can you stand back?”  Have you seen that movie “Gone in Sixty Seconds”, well she was red faced in fifteen.

Sexy troll

Right before I woke up laughing, I saw a picture of me in the center of a group of happy, little girls holding dolls and loving me. I felt like Santa Claus…but the Phyllicia Rashad version.

Mrs Claus

It was great.  Maybe drinking a glass of Sauvignon Blanc before bed does this to a girl.  Anyway…

Happy Sunday Rising…lol.

In The Zone.


After last night’s dead battery adventure, I decided to take care of the issue with a visit to my local auto parts store. But before I could do that, I had to have some breakfast of coffee and key lime pie. Hangin’ with the Yaq Pack (Cognac Drinkers…lol) sucked me dry of energy. Honey, cooking was out of the question.

SO…I get to the auto parts store and stand in line for about 10 minutes. Now for those who’ve never been to an auto parts store, let me help you with the visual. When you first walk in, the smell of new tires and mechanic odor hits you right in the nose. Look to the right and aisles of auto stuff are lined up neatly against a wall. Turn to the left and checkout lanes guard long rows of batteries, brakes and other stuff I can’t identify. I’m sure it’s all auto stuff though.

Now, walk past any lane with a customer if you can. Auto store checkout lanes are not typical. Sometimes people come right up to simply purchase something they already have in their hands. Most times though, it’s a process of having a lay person try to describe what he or she may need to the guy behind the counter. That guy (non-gender based, guy can be male or female) will then type something in the computer that will come back with a price and a description. The guy and the customer then have to have THE discussion. “What is that?” and “How much?” are typical questions that come up. Anyway, just try to find an open register.

In this case, I had to wait about fifteen minutes because all the guys were busy…only to be told that I had to go to a different location to have my battery tested. Hmm…no problem. The other location was about five minutes down the same street. Hopped back into my truck (it cranked on the first try…yay!) and drove to the other location. This is where the party starts.

So, I have to wait again. I do, patiently.

When it’s my turn, I ask the guy if he can check my battery. He’s cool and says, “OK”. It takes him a minute to find the tester. The last guy didn’t put it back where it should go…and it was a thing.

So, we get outside. The battery needs a charge. I’m like ‘cool’ how much is that?  He says it’s free and I secretly celebrate in my head.  Then he asks me something about a fast charge and a slow charge. I’m like ‘huh?’

Let’s just say that I opted for the fast charge of about thirty five minutes. The slow charge was 6-7 hours.  Who chooses the slow charge? I’m no car guy but I’m like if I have a choice, I’d rather not be waiting around for a day to get my battery juiced up.

Well, so now I have a half hour and some change for neighborhood exploration. Another thing about auto stores. They tend to be located on busy streets…in non-luxurious neighborhoods. I didn’t want to go too far and I didn’t think it was safe to cross traffic. There was a little ‘urban’ strip mall a block down with a sign that said ‘Jamaican Food’.

Cool food adventure!

No. No. No.

Not really an adventure but a journey of sorts, nonetheless.

So I walk in and every table’s dirty. It seems that I just missed the lunch rush…but I’m not sure because the place never got busy while I was there. Typical set up for West Indian restaurants in Florida. A lone lady behind a glass serving area with a cash register and several different traditional (I assumed) dishes. I was third in line. When I walked up, the guy in front of me just stepped to the side. I wasn’t sure why he would do that but whatever. The dude talking to the lady behind the glass must’ve been trying to get his Mack on because it was taking him a long time to order. They had about ten things on the menu.  Either he was a slow ready or a long flirt. I didn’t care. Finally, it was my turn. The guy on the side waved me ahead so I went.

I ordered Kingfish…and it was good! I had to eat it quickly and only after saying a prayer because the tables were all still dirty. Since I had a good bit of time left to head back for my battery, I found a semi-clear space. I kept all of my food inside the plastic bag and had a bottled drink. Not my finest hour it was not the most interesting thing about my visit to this ‘café’.

A crackhead came in as I was eating and watching Steven Segal’s, “Above the Law”. Why were we watching “Above the Law”? It was not making my eyes and stomach happy. Le sigh.

Monsieur Crackery made some kind of scene that included something about the owner. I don’t know. I was just trying to eat without freakin’ out from the combination of bloody shootings, crack drama and filth that was surrounding me. Now, the only thing that made this situation bearable was Pam Grier…and she didn’t make an appearance for a while.

When my time was up, I tossed my tray in the trash and bid the Lady Behind the Glass a good day.

When I get back to the auto store, of course the battery needs more charge. So now I’m like, “Does this mean I need the slow charge?” The guy says, “No…but you should let it charge for about another thirty minutes.” I’m like, “Damn.”

I really was not up to another urban outing so, I sat in the car and fiddled with my phone for a while. My windows were up and it got to hot. So, I did what no lady should ever do.

I opened my door to let in air. I am sitting in my giant truck with the door wide open. Mother would not approve.  I can almost hear her admonishing me for being so ‘country’. We’re from Georgia. Country is in my blood, Mama. (Don’t tell her I said that.)

After another thirty-five minutes, the guy walks out to the truck. The battery charger has only boosted the power up a tad…and I’m thinking I should’ve gotten that slow charge. Then I realize, I’m at an auto store and they’re in the business of selling batteries. Dang it! That free charge malarkey is just a marketing ploy.

I’m over it.

So, I have the guy put my battery back in the truck. It cranks right up! Yay! I may have to buy a new battery but it won’t be today. Off to Publix, the next stop on my Saturday adventure.