Partner is out of town prepping for a job interview monday. I wish him all the luck in the world, but the selfish asshole in me hopes they aren’t offering much cash so he won’t move so far away.

We went to Cabelas friday just to see the guns, and he to get a fresh pair of dress pants to go to the interview. On the way back to dinner he shared a story I’ve heard him tell before, we were both trying to figure out it’s origin, but he believes it was his grandfather, who had a small garage and repair shop years back.

Customer comes in complaining about how his car runs, and gramps gives it a thourogh going over; the plugs are a bit fouled, he cleans them and road tests it and it’s perfect. This would have been in the late 50’s early 60’s. the customer returns in less than a week saying “My wife says it still runs like shit. There’s no pickup and it bogs down, it never seems to run well” So gramps goes through the same exercise; no change, it runs fine. After several of such interchanges and the increasing irritation of the customer, gramps says ‘bring in your wife”. he wants to see if her driving style has something to do with the problems the car is having.

So he hops in next to her.

She adjusts the mirrors, the seat, starts the car, and PULLS THE CHOKE OUT, AND HANGS HER PURSE ON IT.

She thought it was a purse hanger.

It’s the 50’s version of the computer CD drive/cupholder story.

Good luck to you, Partner. Make enough money that I can come down there and mow your lawn for you.