Thursday, June 02, 2016

What is it about me?

Many and many a year ago when we were living in Brownwood, Texas, one of our cars was giving some transmission trouble, so I took it to Chubby's Transmission Repair.  I figured I couldn't go wrong with a guy named Chubby, but several days later I hadn't heard a word about the repair.  So I gave Chubby a call.  The guy who answered said, "Chubby hasn't been able to work.  He cut a couple of his fingers off while he was repairing your transmission."  I did eventually get the car back, and it worked okay.  I don't know if there were any fingers in the transmission, however.

Not so many years ago, we decided to get storm windows installed on our house here in Alvin.  It was to be a one-day job, and a husband-and-wife team came early in the morning to get started.  Before half the windows were installed, the wife rang the doorbell.  I went to see what she wanted, and she said, "My husband just almost cut his finger off.  I'm going to take him to the E.R.  We'll be back tomorrow and finish the job."  Sure enough, they did come back and finish.  Did a good job, too, but I felt bad about the guy's finger.

Today I'm having a new washing machine delivered and installed.  I was given a four-hour window, from 10:00 A.M. until 2:00 P.M.  At 12:30 I got a call from the installation people.  The woman who called said, "Your delivery might be a little late.  The installer cut the top of his finger off while making an earlier delivery.  He's leaving the E.R. now to start catching up."

If there's a lesson in all of this, it's not for me, I suppose.  However, anybody thinking about doing some work for me might want to think twice. 

14 comments:

James Reasoner said...

Makes me wonder what could have happened when I brought you that VCR all those years ago.

Bill Crider said...

You were lucky on that day!

Squints said...

Probably best you don't go to Wendy's for chili, Bill.

Jeffrey Meyerson said...

Stay off his lawn!

Richard Moore said...

Growing up in farm and timber cutting country, there were many men missing fingers, hands, arms and etc. My father worked with a man every body called "Nub" as he had lost fingers on both hands from working in sawmills. My Uncle Buren collected pocket knives and was very proud of one he had that was made for one-armed folks. Everybody carried pocket knives but a fella with only one hand would have a lot of trouble opening a standard knife. So some company saw the niche and marketed to it.

Bill Crider said...

Good to hear a story about Uncle Buren again!

george ibarra said...

I guess, never. NEVER help Bill with anything

Bill Crider said...

Probably a good idea to avoid me.

Dan said...

I lost most of a finger years ago while repairing a lawn mower, and I recommend it highly--you wouldn't believe how many sick jokes you can do with a short finger.
(Details on request.)

Bill Crider said...

I aint' askin'!

Scott Cupp said...

Bill there is definitely something going on there. But I just can't put my finger on it.

Bill Crider said...

If I were you, I'd put my hands in my pockets.

Kevin R. Tipple said...

Talking about folks giving you the finger.

K
(who hopes Dan shares details)

Art Scott said...

Good thing you were never in charge of arranging a briss!