B.D.’s wife, M., texted him yesterday. The message simply said, “Having an emergency.” Forty minutes later, he received another message saying, “At the dealership.” Twenty minutes later, a third message followed asking, “Spend whatever it takes?”
When he finally called her back, he found out that the radiator on his car had essentially exploded. The mechanic at the dealership performed some other tests on the car, only to find out that the rear brake lights weren’t working either. When B.D. asked his wife about this, she said that it probably happened when she backed into that little old lady.
“Backed into a little old lady?!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, when I busted up the bumper,” she said.
“You busted up the bumper?!” he exclaimed again.
“Well, I was trying to figure out why the front tire was shaking, and I wasn’t paying complete attention,” she replied.
“What’s wrong with the front tire?” he asked.
“The mechanic said the rotors are messed up or something.”
“What the #$%@ is actually working on the car then?” he asked, losing his patience completely.
“The radio’s fine.”
“Well, that’s something,” he replied, sarcastically.
