What… did I do something wrong…?
Todays post we break routine a little bit in that I recount an occurrence of the day. Rregular programming will resume shortly.
If you follow my blog regularly you would know that I work for a BMW dealership. Today was one of those days where you can’t help but feel we still suffer from a bit of “tall poppy” syndrome.
Sit down children while I tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a Space Grey 320 MSport that lived in a small village where there was a small flock of BMWs. Now Bip, as they called him was looking a little thirsty, so after his shepherd boy had his lunch, he decided to take him to the local petrol station for a drink.
Bip had been given a bath that morning so he was sparkly and shiny.
When they arrived at the petrol station for his feeding, there was a big scary Kingswood Ute there taking a drink too, so Bip carefully tiptoed around this monster as not to startle him because there was a free feed dish for him just in front.
The rest of the story is just not for children…
Now, this is a small petrol station, so maneuvring around the place sometimes is 50% limbo, 50% tango. Once I was around the Ute, I had to reverse to get to the pump. As I looked in my rear view mirror, I could see the driver of the Kingswood standing there sarcastically applauding.
How do I know he was being sarcastic? The rest of the story, well… tells the story…
So I fill up the car, finish up, wind on the cap, *click*. The Kingswood guy at this time is walking out from the shop paid, and we walk past each other. At this point I was expecting a confrontation (for exactly what I don’t know, but judging by the attitude…).
Anyway, I get to paying, and while I do I look out at my car. He drives out around my car of course and he looks like he death stares the car I drove… I pay no mind, he can’t possibly assault the car now.
While I’m driving back I notice a smear on the side window. Here I think “Dammit… a bird must have crapped on it while some of the girls at work took it out to lunch.”
Annoyed. But I know I can’t really help it as that’s the nature of the business.
I take a second look at the smear and notice it’s a little translucent. *click*
F@$#ing wanker spat on the car as he drove around.
So I drive straight into our wash bay… hose it all off… and smolder a little…
Help me dear readers, did I do something wrong? I drove around his car, to the free pump. Heaven forbid, gave him a slight obstacle to drive past. (I move as far over as I possibly can because I know that this Shell is a tight squeeze).
Spat on my car… seriously…
He didn’t even have the nerve to make eye contact with me on the way out of the petrol station.
I could cast dispersions on his $20 servo sunnies and beat up old Kingswood Ute… but that would just be sinking to his level…
Please set me straight if I’ve got it all wrong… because how it feels right now, it will take some getting over…
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