Dinner and a Movie

Originally posted to my Facebook notes. It was a crappy day.

And thus:

Kelly's been working 60 hours, and she had to work Thanksgiving, so we had our dinner on Friday. We decided we'd go out tonight, do some shopping, grab something to eat, and maybe catch a movie. Sounds simple enough, right? Yeah.

My 4Runner's battery died. I've been driving the Camry, so it wasn't a big deal, but I figured I'd jump it and charge it back up while I was checking the antifreeze in the car. I hooked up the cables, and my first clue that something wasn't right, was the way the sparks flew everywhere, and the battery caught fire. At that point, I suspected something was amiss.

I checked the battery on the Camry, which had been replaced recently. Neither vehicle has color coded posts or cables, they're both black. But the Camry has covers showing which one's positive, so you don't have to check the battery case. Except the positive cover was put back on the negative post, and the cables were actually hooked up positive to negative. Thus the fire and sparks. This pissed me off.

So now, I'm left with my back glass down on the 4Runner, the battery's fried and won't take a charge, and the electrical system doesn't work when I remove the battery and hook it up either. I finally get the bolt loose on the battery holder, remove the fried battery, and remove and move the battery from the Camry, to see if I can get it to work, or at least roll my window up.

Nothing. Well, nearly nothing. Nothing useful, anyway, but the horn continuously blows at full volume now, even though nothing else works. So, I check all the fuses. All good. Which means I've either got a fried relay, or I've got a fried computer. Yeah, me.

I get a couple of garbage bags, some packing tape, and I tape up the back glass. Mostly, anyway. I ran out of tape before I got finished. I then called my mechanic, and I asked if he knew anybody that had a flatbed and could tow it cheap. Because, without power, I can't even put it in neutral and push it into the garage. He gives me a phone number.

The tow truck driver shows up and loads it. He tells me it could be the computer, but hopefully the relay went first. I ask him to drop it somewhere sheltered and out of the weather, because it's going to have to sit until Monday. He says he'll see what he can do, if Chuck's home when he gets there. I call Chuck and make sure he's home, and I ask him to do the same thing, so it doesn't get rained in. He says it's not a problem.

I pay the $60.00, tell the wrecker guy thank you, and I call Chuck again to tell him it's on the way. He tells me again that it may be the computer, but hopefully, it's just a relay. He also tells me that, if it's the computer, if he can find one used, it'll still be $75-100.00. So, because of this whole backward ass battery cover thing, I'm looking at $60 for towing, maybe $75-100.00 on the parts, if I can find a used one that works, a new battery and labor. I am now highly pissed, and I"m running late.

We debated going to Danville, which is 36 miles north, or Campbellsville, which is 20 miles west of here. Finally, we decided to go to Russell Springs, which is 26 miles southeast of here, because I noticed that the local theater there is putting on a production of A Christmas Carol, and I thought it'd be something Kelly would like.

The theater is an old style movie theater, and it was bought out by a local arts group and restored. They now put on live seasonal productions. The tickets are sold at the mom and pop drug store across the street. The show is next weekend, so we thought we'd swing by, pick up the tickets, and then make the 27 mile trip to Somerset, which is the closet large town from there, and do the whole movie, eat and shopping thing there.

I tried calling them while I was waiting on the tow guy, so I could find out what time they close, but the phone was busy. When we got there, they had closed at 3pm. So now, I've driven 26 miles for absolutely no reason, and I was already pissed off to begin with. We decide to go on to Somerset anyway, instead of just going home, despite my better judgment.

As I start the 27 mile journey to Somerset, the car starts making funky noises. It's the power steering. I find a Dollar General, go in and buy some power steering fluid, which is placed directly behind a loaded stock cart and a stack of boxes I have to kick out of the way, and I go out to check the fluid. It's out. Nothing in the reserve. So now, I have a leak in my power steering system. Wonderful. At this point, I'm a barrel of fucking laughs. I fill the power steering, and I head out to Somerset. I'm a glutton for punishment.

We get to Somerset, and I decide to try the restaurant they opened in the mall. We didn't want a fast food restaurant, we wanted to sit down in a decent restaurant and have a steak or real entree, with real service. So we go to eat at the Tumbleweed Southwest Mesquite Grill.

I decided on the Bison Burger, and Kelly decided she'll have the same, because she's never had buffalo. It's a decent size burger, but nowhere near big enough for the $9.95 price. It's a burger with fries. Anyway, they have a bacon cheddar burger too, and I asked if I could get the Bison with cheddar and bacon, and the waitress says that's fine, she can do that. We order them well done. Then we eat our queso (sucked) and salsa. And we wait.

The food finally arrives, and I've got a burger with no cheese, no bacon. Kelly has a burger with no cheese, no bacon. But our fries are covered with them. We wait for the waitress to come back, and we point out that the order's all wrong. She disappears, and she later returns with the manager. The manager apologizes, assures us that our waitress makes mistakes all the time, that they suspect she's really a blonde, not a brunette (Kelly's blonde, and so's the manager, so how this is reassuring, I have no fucking idea), and that this is still the biggest mistake she's made all day, even though earlier, she had to ask what hushpuppies were made of. The waitress assures us that this is true, and I tell her that they're made of dog tails.

So, after this song and dance, she asks what she can do. Can they bring us cheese and bacon? The cheese won't be melted, but they can bring us some cheese. I told her that still didn't solve the problem of having cheese and bacon all over my fries, but at this point, I'd eat them anyway. Kelly doesn't want cheese and bacon on hers, so they assure us that they'll give us new fries, apologize again, and the manager tells us that, if we want dessert, she'll have it taken care of. Whoopee.

They bring us a slice of cold cheese and 2 strips of bacon apiece, and we wait for the fries. In the meantime, Kelly had decided she doesn't want any more of her burger, and she pushes half of it aside. After all this, I decide I'll eat the rest of it myself. But I can't, because it's fucking burnt. It tastes like charcoal. I asked her how she even managed to eat half of it.

Our waitress has seemingly disappeared, and we're out of sweet tea. When she finally does come back, we ask her to bring us more sweet tea, and she returns a bit later with 2 more glasses, then disappears again. She brings us unsweetened tea. So, I wait. And I wait. And when she finally comes back, presumably to ask us about our free dessert, I tell her she brought me unsweetened tea. 1 sweet and 1 unsweet? No, I say, they're both wrong. So she disappears again, but not before leaving me the check, after having already rung us up, never even asking if we wanted dessert. When she returns, it's with 1 glass of sweet tea, instead of 2. Then we had to wait on her to come back and get the credit card and cash us out. I finished another glass of tea in the time it took her to find her way back. And we got comped for zippo. Nothing. Nada. Thirty plus dollars for 2 burger plates, a small order of queso, and 2 teas. But the manager thanked us for understanding, and she asked us to come again. Fat fucking chance.

We now stroll into the mall and go to get tickets for the movie at the Cinema 8. There's not much playing, so we decide to see The Men Who Stare at Goats. We have a half hour until the movie, but I've really got to piss, so we decide to go ahead and go in. But they won't let us. They're not seating yet, and they won't even let anyone into the lobby and concession area. We have to stand in line. They only have 1 line for all the movies. Even though they all start at different times. Tell me how much goddamn sense that makes? And there's a 50 foot fucking line for New Moon. I'm about ready to stab someone in the neck with a #2 pencil.

So we browse. Kelly wants to buy an ornament from the custom Christmas shop. The lady asks what we want on it, and I tell her I want it to say Screw Kwanzaa or Hanukkah Sucks. She asks if we want something about Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas. Kelly tells her to put Merry Christmas on it, none of that Happy Holidays crap. I tell her I still vote for Merry Festivus, or Hanukkah Sucks. I mean, it doesn't really, I have absolutely nothing against Hanukkah, I just thought the whole exercise was silly. I even did my best Oy, Vey! The counter girl gave me weird looks, but I'm used to that.

While she was making Kelly's ornament, I found a flying pig ornament, and I had to get it. I wanted it to say Merry Porkmas. And for $10.95 plus tax, it damn well should. But it didn't. After I got it back, and we left, I realized it said Merry Porkman. Which, as I'm sure you realize, is chock full of un-Christmas like sexual innuendo. I said nothing, because at this point, I've decided it's par for the course, and I should have just stayed home.

We get back in the movie line, and begin our 20 minute wait to get in, surrounded by Twilight groupies. I amuse myself by thoroughly and profanely dissing on Twilight, the pussification of vampires, and proclaiming that it should be against the law for women to write vampire fiction. I announce that vampires don't glisten, and they should damn well properly fucking explode when sunlight hits them, because that's how it's done. We finally get into the theater.

I walk into the movie theater, and I stop, look around, and I'm baffled that I can't find the rest of it.

This cinema has 3 rows of 10 seats, and about 18 more scattered behind, in a room the size of my living room. I shit you not, sports fans, and I don't exaggerate. A 15 ft. screen, 3 full rows of 10 seats, and you have to break your neck to see the screen. It's the smallest theater I have ever seen, and I felt like I was in a broom closet.

I opined loudly about how fucking stupid it was, what a rip-off it was, and how it would have been easier to sit at home and watch my flatscreen from 6 inches away. Everyone who walked in had the same "WTF" look on their faces. One guy even turned around, walked out, and he went into another movie. It was pathetic. I wanted to leave, but we'd already bought our tickets, our drinks, and our popcorn. Kelly wouldn't go, so we waited. And then the movie didn't start on time. It started 10 minutes late, and then they showed 4 trailers before they ever started it. And the screen had big ass scars, right in the center of the screen. Like it had been sliced or ripped and taped back together. You could fry an egg on my head.

Kelly thinks it's funny, but hey, at least I got my Christmas ornament. Then I tell her that she engraved it wrong. Now, she's irritated, wants to go back, and have her redo it.

The movie isn't very good. A few chuckles, but all in all, not very good. Even with Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey, Jeff Bridges and George Clooney. Big waste of 14 bucks and concessions. It did end about 10 minutes before closing, though, so Kelly insisted on taking the ornament back. She refuses to have Merry Porkman on her tree.

So, we take it back, and she shows her what it says. All the ladies agree that it's inappropriate for a Christmas tree. I ask what the hell's the difference, because Porkman is funnier than Porkmas, and neither one makes any damn sense anyway. They give us a new ornament, and she corrects the engraving. She also mentions some of the half Hanukkah, half Christmas ornaments she has at home.

So, now that I know she's half Jewish, I understand the odd look earlier. I have inadvertently mocked this woman's holiday. Which is just icing on the cake. Although, I have to wonder about the whole Porkman thing. Maybe it was a Freudian slip, and she had weenie on the brain. I don't know.

I though about sitting on Santa's lap and having my picture made for my Facebook profile, but I figured, the way my day was going, I'd wind up in jail.

Finis.

*
*
*
*

Update:

And what of the follow-up? What happened, you ask?

Well, after spending $100 to get it cranking again, putting a used battery on it, and putting in new plugs, it turns out it's missing on 2 cylinders. One for no apparent reason, and another, because it has almost no compression. Probably a burnt valve.

Which means, even if I could find a used motor and swap them straight across, it's going to cost me anywhere from $400-700 plus labor to fix it. For an engine that supposedly less than 3 years old, and only had 64k miles on it when I bought it.

So, the moral is, the car dealership is full of lying, cheating assholes. Which one wouldn't expect from a major new/used dealership, but there you go. Total shit weasels. I hope they get humped in the butt by rabid and promiscuous badgers. Badgers with a penchant for STD riddled prostitutes and beating their sex partners, because of seriously repressed issues connected to priest molestation.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go put a Badgers Wanted ad on Craig's List.