I need to fuck something

Thanks Al for the title.

My fuse has been shortened these last two days, as we are in the midst of it at work. The job's been getting busy, and the people are getting dumber.
A young lady at work complained about her car over heating, and went into the history of it after I asked her what some of the symptoms of the problem were. I told her I wasn't looking for chatter, and that when I get to the question of how long, then answer that one. By calendar days, not some fucking story about how you were going on a trip and it was cold out- great now we've narrowed it down to four months of the year. Big help, Irving.
Anyway, after diagnosing the difficulty, I told her to give me the keys and I'd check it out. Instead, she insisted that she come and see what was going on. Apparently she thought I cared to hear about how everything is falling apart in her life. I seriously considered telling her that if she exercised the gray shit between her ears as much as she did her vocal cords that she would give a rocket surgeon a run for his money. They really need to figure out a way to harness the power of that girl talking. She should be forced to speak into a squirrel cage attached to a generator or something.
I'm going to cut this a bit short because I feel myself getting angry, and I'm over at cousin Luke's, and he only has six beers left.
She started the car, and I filled the reservoir. I went around and held the gas down and upped the rpms. "Andy what are you doing?"
"Stepping on the gas."
"Why are you doing that? It sounds bad."
"It's because your car runs like shit."
"Then why step on the gas?"
"Because I don't have until five to wait for this fucking thing to warm up."
"Oh. Why do you need it to warm up?"
"Because it won't get hot at idle speed."
long pause, then her again, as if it won't be evident

"Well, I came to a stop earlier, and it was idling and the needle-thingy went all the way to the top!"

This is where I really started weighing options between washing my hands of it and whether ten to life would be worth it.

After it warmed up, I decided that it was the thermostat and told her so.

"How do you know that?"
"It ain't leaking from the radiator or any of the hoses."
"What about the one up there?"
"That's the overflow bleeder hose from the reservoir. It's overflowing because it's boiling over. Water's not getting to the radiator."
"So that's not bad?"
"Not unless you like to hear the boom sound under your hood."
"So it's the thermostat?"
"Either that or the water pump. Do you have ten bucks or sixty bucks on you?"
"I have twelve."
"Thermostat."

Well, I picked up a thermostat and installed it in her car. Since most of you have less than two hours to read this shit, I'll leave the install out. It involved a check engine light, me asking if her boyfriend had a dollar-fifty and a TARC schedule, and giving her bull shit to do so that I didn't have to be the recipient of her chattering gums.

And to think- the only reason I did this for her was that she has a baby girl, no money, and her boyfriend can't fix a drink. I helped an idiot who's already procreated. Damn me anyway.

There's more that's been irking my lately, but I'll let it go, as I have to get home and start the crock pot for tomorrow. I hope they like their chili hot.

No picture today.