“yow-zuh; yow-zuh”

This morning’s (Friday, August 10, 2007) errand was a visit to the dreaded Toy-store in Canandaigua, to do a 15,000-mile, 18-month service on the Bucktooth Bathtub. (Our mileage is only about 8,300 miles, but we bought the van in October of 2005.)
When I walked into the service-department the frazzled service-rep was being loudly shoved around by a lady angry that she would have to spend 89 bazilyun dollars for two new tires. (Proper tire-inflation should be within the ability of even the helpless.)
What I was witnessing was the usual blustering when an ignorant someone is required to spend money she wasn’t planning on.
“How come you guys never said anything about rotation? Are the parts charges included in my bill? Can you please staple all that so it stays together in my trashcan?”
The poor service-rep was strung out. I almost told him to calm down — that I wasn’t going to bite his head off.
A lowly mechanic called him in and dressed him down for something.
Good golly, Miss Molly! The poor guy had to stand by sheepishly: “yow-zuh; yow-zuh.”
I told him I didn’t need the oil changed, or the tires rotated; that I had done both things myself. Little needed to be done, so I was told on the phone I could wait for it; after which I planned to go to the Canandaigua YMCA.
“It will take us at least two hours; still want to wait for it?” the poor guy asked.
Two hours wasn’t what I’d planned on; to me “waiting for it” means about 30 minutes or less.
“Depends on whether you guys can cart me down the the local YMCA.” (If they couldn’t, I’d wait.)
A callow teenybopper was dragged out, and together we drove the Bucktooth Bathtub down to the Y.
“Be careful with this thing,” I said; “we think the world of it.”
“Just continue down this street, around the bend to Gibson St., and then back to 332.”
Three hours later I called back the Toy store and said they could come pick me up at the Y. In about five minutes, callow teenybopper showed up in a fleet Scion — not for sale. “I have no idea where to drop you off,” he said, as we drove into the Toy-store. “I just started this job; and I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “You’re doing fine, and it ain’t rocket-science.”

“The dreaded Toy-store” is LeBrun Toyota in Canandaigua. My loudmouthed macho brother-in-Boston excoriated me for not buying an American pickup-truck. He firmly believes it ain’t real if it ain’t gettin’ 5 mpg or less.

The Bucktooth Bathtub” is our 2005 Toyota Sienna van; called that because it’s white and like sitting in a bathtub, and appears to have a bucktooth on the grill.

“332” (State Route 332) is the main north-south drag through Canandaigua.