Fri, 30 Dec 2005 04:59:59
One of the truly strange things about dwelling in Debrisville is how many flat tires one can have. So far we’ve had 3 and I know folks who have had up to 6 flats. All we can do is to keep plugging and patching. Who the hell wants to buy new tires when there’s bound to be a nail or screw with your name on it?
The only upside of the flat tire watch is when the tire you’re watching is not your own. Dr. Adrastos and I have the stupidest next door neighbors in creation. If there’s the dumbest possible way to do something they’ll do it that way. Always. Invariably. They are creatively stupid. I call them Mr. and Mrs. Moron. Unkind but accurate.
Anyway last Friday we noticed that Mrs. Moron’s car had a flat tire. Knowing them we assumed that they hadn’t noticed it. We were right. On Sunday I told Mrs. Moron’s brother that she had a flat. He told her within seconds and she was shocked shocked to learn this. Mrs. Sherlock Holmes she’s not folks. Every day since then we’ve kept track of the flat and its progress or lack thereof. It’s now Day-7 and counting and it’s still flatter than cracker bread. My hunch is that they’ll put it off until an hour before Mrs. Moron needs to go to work. That way they can hoot holler and carry on like recently beheaded chickens.
What can I say? Times are hard around here so what’s a little schadenfreude among friends?