What Makes Me Laugh

On my “top ten things I dread” list, picking up a car from a rental agency ranks pretty darn high.

After being served by Snot Nose yesterday, it’s pretty much a given that I’ll be using my sick leave sometime next week. I felt bad for a woman who clearly didn’t understand the basics of hygiene, but seriously, I’ve never seen a functioning adult with snot caked over her top lip and a line of fresh liquid running down to her mouth (which she occasionally licked with her tongue).  Even the front of her black jacket had white snot lines on it.

Though it may have seemed rude, I used my own pen to “decline here” and “sign there.”

Also in the office was Insanely Cheery, who kept trying to make small talk about the weather in the voice of a kindergarten teacher talking to a five-year-old. When I pointed out that after six months of renting with them my name was still listed as “Jennifer” instead of “Janelle” in their computer, she giggled and said, “We just can’t seem to figure that out, can we?” 

It’s never a good sign when you’re circling the car and the agent says, “Let’s just pop the trunk and make sure the spare tire is there.” Then, while you’re looking for dents “bigger than the size of the bottom of a pop-can” she notices a “wicked crack” in the windshield and tells you it’s a “selling point” because you won’t have to worry about someone throwing up a rock and cracking it. 

After a day of driving in a car with disturbing stains on the seat and the smell of a thousand ashtrays filtering through the air, I arrive back at the rental agency. Insanely Cheery  admits, “Yes, it does kind of smell funky in there,” and then wrinkles her nose and smiles at me just to make it all feel better. The manager says, “If you’re not satisfied with your car you can always come back to the office and we’ll give you another one.” 

Just one question, “Will it have a spare tire too?”