Why me again? I’m telling ya this damn Sprite has it in for me, kinda like Christine.
Something bone fucking simple had to go fucking sideways from clear out in left field.
A week or so I ordered a few more parts for this God Forsaken Piece Of Shit Sprite that has been the bane of my existence for well over thirty years now.
A throw out bearing, a dinky little Bronze bushing for the pivot point on the throw out arm, a couple of clips and a new actuating rod for the slave cylinder. 1/4 inch in diameter and two and a half inches long.
Yesterday afternoon I go out to get the mail and there is a little box from the outfit I ordered all this from.
I was on my way out of town to go see someone and just threw it on the seat next to me and drove off.
I got home about nine thirty, grabbed it and came in the house.
Open the thing up and it instantly turned into a What The Fuck Is This? moment.
The box was addressed to me but it had an invoice and someone else’s parts in it!
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
So first thing this morning I had to get on the damn phone and call these people to try and straighten their fucking mess out.
The guy’s name and address were on the invoice and I see he is in Astoria Oregon, on the coast about ninety miles from here. He ordered some bumper bolts for a Morris Minor and I’m pretty sure he, like anyone else, he is probably expecting them to show up, on time.
The outfit we both ordered parts from is down in Califuckingfornia.
Of course the first thing they want me to do is to send the parts back to them, so they can repackage them and then send them all the way back up to this poor dude who is waiting for them.
Fuck that I says.
I have the dude’s address, he is less than a hundred miles away from me so I am going down to the post office and mail him his damn parts.
Oh, the lady says.
Yeah, Oh, I ain’t giving you the choice honey.
It’s what I think of as THE RIGHT THING TO DO.
So she is nice enough, sees the wisdom of this move and tells me to send her a copy of my receipt so they can reimburse me for the shipping.
A whopping $8.30.
Plus all the fucking around.
So while I have the nice lady on the phone I inquired about the status of the parts I ordered a week ago.
Wait, no need to guess because you are right before you even say anything.
They are still at least another week out. Even though they were supposedly in stock according to their website when I ordered them.
So how in the fuck they got my address mixed up with this poor bastards order is beyond my imagination if my parts aren’t even in their possession yet.
Oh just for fun?
As I was out assessing just how badly the paint is coming off the nose of this thing lately, I notice the fucking windshield all of a sudden has a crack in it. All the way from the top to the bottom, with no apparent chip in it.
After I spent three days tearing two frames apart and putting a good windshield into a good frame and resealing the bastard a couple years ago.
OUT OF THE BLUE.
It never fucking ends with this damn thing.