Yet Another Interview (or: I Kill You Now!!!)

And so it came to pass that last Wednesday, when I went to my interview to be a bank auditor, this bitch in an SUV ran me off the road in the parking garage, whereupon I ran into a curb and my tire exploded. 15 minutes before my interview. Isn't that hot? I thought it was.

So I had to pull into one of the Park Here And Die!!! reserved spaces because you can't drive on no tire. I went downstairs and explained to the woman what had happened. The woman told me they were going to tow my car. I explained what happened again. The woman told me to move my car because they were going to tow my car.

I went outside and called Boyfriend and starting crying hysterically on the phone. There was a man on the sidewalk. He turned out to be the owner of all the buildings on the street, including the parking garage. He explained to the awful woman what happened. The awful woman was suddenly very polite and helpful and assured him that of course my car would not be towed. Such a miraculous transformation at this time of year must be the work of the Baby Jesus.

I then proceeded to my interview, which, I must point out, I made it to EXACTLY on time. But obviously the interview sucked because I was distracted and I kept blinking like I had some kind of disorder because crying dries out my contacts really bad. Plus it was a two vs. one interview, which is never fun to begin with. I was so not into it that I immediately forgot the name of the second woman upon entering the elevator, so I haven't sent my thank you notes because I thought it would be awkward to thank one lady but not the other, and now it's probably too late in any case. Fabulous.

Then, for dessert, I got to pay $100 for a new tire, when I had just paid $100 for two new tires two months ago, one of which was the one that exploded. Although I did get to have my tire installed at the place I think they must use as the set for every chop shop scene in every movie about car thieves, which is somewhere in East or possibly South Boston, if you're interested. So that was nice. And by "nice" I mean "aggghhh!!!"

To prevent future such occurrences, I'm having one of those tank guns installed on top of my little car and the next SUV that makes me feel the least bit nervous is getting totally fucking vaporized.