Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Ford Motor Company & Grace- A play in one sad act,

Ford: Hi may I help you?

Grace: Yes, Ford. I would like an oil change and I would like you to either patch my tire, or if it is beyond repair, give me a new tire.

Ford: Sure thing, Customer-With-A-Vagina!

Grace: Additionally, since the last time you worked on my car, I haven't been able to pop the hood. And neither has anyone else. Could you check that out, too?

Ford: (thinking he'd like to "pop her hood") I'm sure it's nothing we did, Vagina. But for you, we'll check it out.

Grace: Thanks. I'll be back tomorrow to pick up the car.


Grace: Hi Ford! How's it goin?

Ford: Vagina!! Good to see you! Your car is ready. Here's the bill. There were a couple of additional charges. Nothing major. Just a $26 vagina charge, a $33.15 vagina charge, and then the standard $41.56 vagina charge.

Grace: Wow. Ummm...ok.. Well, ok. At least my car works. (hands over her credit card.)

...NEXT DAY (Grace and Ford talk on the phone)

Ford: Hello?

Grace: Hi Ford! It's Grace.

Ford: Vag-alicious! How's your labia?

Grace: Umm. Fine, except my tire is flat. The one you fixed yesterday. I need you to do something to make this better.

Ford: I don't understand how we're responsible for this, Vagina. What would you expect us to do?

Grace: I paid for you to either fix or replace my tire. Now it's flat, and I can't move it because of the ice.

Ford: Well, Vagina, your roadside assistance ran out, and I don't see how this is our problem anyway. How do I know you didn't run over another nail on your way home from the dealership? Vaginas do that all the time.

Grace: Are you telling me it's more likely that I ran over another nail in the same tire the day after you fixed it, than you actually didn't fix it right?

Ford: Happens all the time, Vagina.

Grace: Ok. I guess I'll have to change the tire myself. Thanks for nothing, Ford.

Ford: No problem, Vag. Always here to help.

(Grace goes to her car. She empties out her trunk. She looks for the place where a spare tire would go. She pulls up the carpet a little bit, and realizes there's no way a spare tire would go there, even though that's ALWAYS where spare tires are. Frustrated, she goes back up to her apartment and dials the phone)

Ford: Hello?

Grace: (sighs) Hi Ford. It's Grace again.

Ford: Hi Vagina. What's wrong now?

Grace: I umm... can't find where the spare tire is on the Explorer. It's not in the trunk under the carpet like it's supposed to be.

Ford: (laughing) Oh Vagina!! You silly little pussy. It's not under the carpet in the trunk. On SUV's the spare tire is UNDER the car. On the outside. You have to go under the car to get it.

Grace: Ohhhh!! Ok! That makes sense. I can do this. Thanks for explaining that to me, Ford. Have a good day.

Ford: You too, Vagina. OH, Vagina? Before you hang up, you should probably know that your spare tire has probably been stolen.

Grace: Ummm.. What?

Ford: Yeah, because the spare tires are on the outside, they're almost ALWAYS stolen.

Grace: But, Ford, if they're almost always stolen, why do you have them on the outside of the car?

Ford: (laughing) Oh, Vagina. You should know the answer to that! It's hard to fit the baby carseats any other way.

Grace: Oh, right. Of course.

(Grace walks down to her car. Lays on her belly on the fucking ice, and looks under her car. She can't see anything. She tries to get a little closer, TEARING HER CUTE JEANS, and sees without a doubt that her spare tire has indeed been stolen.)


dixie said...


Anonymous said...

That is some of the funniest shit I have ever read. But I feel your pain when it comes to car trouble. The ripped jeans may be the worst part.

anonymoushottie said...

Aww I didn't know you had an Exploder! Matching cars! I haven't checked for my spare in awhile . . . sigh.