Crossed Wires

“Moe, I’m breaking up with you,” I announced in front of all the disgruntled owners in the Jeep service department waiting room.

“You can’t.”

“Yes I can. And I am.”

“Let’s talk about this.” He dangled my keys by the paper service tag.

We’d been seeing each other regularly. Our relationship was purely automotive.

It began after a particularly treacherous puppy school episode. Lillian, Delilah and I attended on alternating dog days. Mondays, I took Lilly in while Delilah napped or barked at squirrels or did algebra in the car. Tuesday Delilah and I attended class while Lilly stayed in the car, pondering her uncertain future.

One pleasant summer Tuesday evening I was leaning in to the back of the Jeep, returning Lilah to her sister, when I felt something clunk me in the head. I looked up to see a clump of wires hanging from the top of the rear door. I followed the wires to where they disappeared behind the door molding which had been separated, apparently by Lilly, from the metal. Aghast, I slammed the hatch down quickly before any of the mommies and daddies of well- behaved dogs could see that mine had just remodeled the Jeep’s interior and yanked out my brake lights. I drove home slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, and, of course, duct taped the wires back behind the molding. Duct tape being a puppy delicacy, it wasn’t long before the tape was swallowed and my rear windshield wiper hung, useless, on the glass.

I explained this all on the phone to Moe.

“Puppies? Right. Bring it in,” he mono-toned. He’d heard everything. He believed nothing.

Until he saw.

“How BIG are these PUPPIES??” he yelled when he saw the door carcass.

“They may be tall for their age…”

And that’s how Moe and I met.

It took some time and a few traffic citations before the proper electrical harness could be located and installed. But there was another problem. My wonderful fully retractable roof was stuck, more or less open. Moe and the greasy nailed guys took several swipes at it but in the end admitted it couldn’t be fixed but could be replaced for $3000.00.

“Whatdjer DOGS stick their heads up through it?” Moe asked.

“My girls had nothing to do with this. Jeep should buy me a new roof, or offer me a deal on a new car.”

Moe introduced me to the “good” salesperson, who eventually offered me about half what my well- ventilated and broken- in automobile was worth on a trade.

“Hey, “Good” Salesperson, my Jeep is worth twice that.”


“Uh, yes, but there’s a problem with the roof,” “Good” Sales person answered. I internalized the fact that Moe’s version of good = gargantuan breasts. Those, she had.

Lillian, Delilah and I are still traveling about half-topless. When it rains very hard water pours out from behind the lights over the dash which keeps dog hair from accumulating. I do not have to crack the windows for them while they wait for me in the car. The “wet car” smell has replaced the “wet dog” smell.
Moe and I remain estranged. However, like divorcing parents, we still have the puppified Jeep between us, ‘til its death do we part.

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