Monkey Life: Part 4

I'm writing this to myself until I make it through this year of living like a monkey.  Hopefully, it'll prevent a repeat of last night.

Dear Pam:

Remember that Firestone place you love?
C'mon, you know the place.  It's so close that once walking your weird dog, you dropped your keys into the sewer.  You walked over to Firestone, and that guy fashioned you a sewer-key-grabber out of a big wire.  You know, the wire you use to retrieve rogue socks from behind the washing machine these days?  That place.  No?

I know I can help you remember, stick with me.  It's where you went just two months ago after you knocked your sideview mirror off with a mailbox while applying mascara.  You drove straight there.  You were all, "Omigosh I need a mirror, but look how thick my eyelashes look!" And sewer-key-grabber guy was all, "It'll cost $300, but maybe don't replace it because it seems like you don't use it anyway!"  And you don't.  So you didn't.  Coming back to you yet?

Dude, you were JUST there a month ago for your inspection.  They suggested a bunch of stuff you needed and you bought none of it, because you didn't recognize most of the words and decided they were mythical items, fancy words people made up for trickery, like air filter and narwhal.  Also you found out you can pass inspection without a side mirror, which seemed so wrong, but was super economical.  Remember?  Yes? Yay!  There you go.  I knew you'd get there.  Yeah, THAT place.  Good, good.

We love that place don't we?  Yes, they ARE very nice.  Yes, they HAVE helped us with so many things this Monkey Year.  Omigosh, you're going to be so happy when I tell you their actual business.  I can hardly wait.  Ready? 
They change the oil in your car. 
I know; let it sink in.

Oil.
The stuff you bought at 10pm last night at Food Lion after having a guy try to jump your battery several times.  Okay two guys.  Why lie to ourselves?  Even I thought the first guy was being lazy.   Turns out, he was right.  Your battery is fine, but you forgot to put oil in the van. 

I know you think of the van as a cozy place to text and eat Cheezits, but you need it to run.  And I know those Firestone guys are good at retrieving keys and telling you when Starbucks opens, but please, for the love of God, occasionally, stop by and let them do their real job.  Just say, "Hey Jonah...you're here, I'm here, I brought the van instead of the dog this time.  Put that magical unicorn juice in here and make her go."

You're doing a good job  this year.  You are.  This year has been balls-to-the-wall crazy, and no one is blaming you.  But the next time you hit that Firestone curb and run into  their parking lot to catch your hubcap, just hang out for 15 minutes.  If you can't remember why you came, just wander aimlessly a few minutes.  I bet that guy will come out and ask if you need your oil changed.

You do.
The answer is always yes, you do.