So I spent my afternoon earlier today driving a car with 2-60 a/c (2 windows down, 60 miles an hour) all over Hell and half of Georgia in search of a decent used tire to replace a decrepit old baldy* so’s the thing could hopefully pass inspection on the way to making it street-legal again after it had been sitting all those months while I languished in
hospital durance vile. None of the correct size to be found anywhere, alas, which was maddening.
Anyhoo, at my fifth and final stop before throwing up my hands in abject defeat, I was chatting with the store’s manager, an attractive, nicely-dressed blonde woman probably in or around her early forties, near as I could make out. Taking a hint from several statements she had made, I told her I figured it might be safe to say that she knew who a certain Klaus Schwab might be.
Much to my delight, she snorted with disgust and barked, “The most evil scumbag on earth, that’s who!” I guffawed loud and long at that vehement response, telling her she’d just made my day after I finally regained my composure and caught my breath again. Which, she sure did. Proving once again that you just never know about people, and shouldn’t make assumptions about them out of hand.
But if that ain’t a hopeful sign, I don’t know what might be.
* I always get my money’s worth out of my tires, running ’em till they’re showing cord at the edges; I’ve punctured a thumb more than once while changing ’em myself, let me tell ya