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- Jun 23, 2003
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So I'm at Sam's buying bulk Mike-sustaining supplies. This includes bulk chimichanga packages, bulk pot sticker packages, 30-packs of bottled water, bulk packages of Kashi Go-Bars, and #90 Adderall 20mg....which is kind of like a bulk purchase.
So anyway, I'm checking out and a few dozen employees start running in and out of the store in a panic. Over the intercom they announce, "if you are parked in the side parking lot, you need to move your vehicle....NOW!"
Being that I was parked in said lot, I kinda put a little bounce in my step and "rode" the back of the cart to the door where the old receipt checking guy was doing his incredibly easy and pointless job.
As he's magic markering my receipt he says to some other employee, "Hey, Bob, will you tell the owner of a Red Buick in the side lot to come to the parking lot IMMEDIATELY."
Odd, I thought....I was driving a red Buick.
So I continue using the shopping buggy as a scooter and scoot myself to the parking lot where....you guessed it...my worthless deathtrap of a Buick was engulfed in flames and a dozen or so Sam's monkeys were dancing around my car with fire extinguishers. It was like trying to extinguish Dante's Inferno with a squirt gun.
And not a cool super soaker
....oh no. One of those dinky plastic jobs you buy at Kroger for 85 cents in the checkout isle.....
.
In time they realized that their futile attempts at making my car less on fire were...well...futile. Eventually the fire department shows up. For some reason they decided the best course of action was to beat my car with a giant ice pick looking thing (no, seriously). After realizing that you can't beat a fire to death, they whipped out the water hoses and finally took the fire out. By this point, I swear to God, no less than 400 people were standing in a circle around the car. I almost expected a guy with a hotdog on a stick to show up in a few seconds all pissed off that they extinguished his barbecue. You'd be amazed at the amount of smoke a 1998 Buick Regal LS can produce.
Then this idiot old guy notices all of the parking spaces available and actually parked his car three spaces away from my charred hunk of metal with a dozen firemen running around it, blasting it with water. He gets out all proud of his space, then while walking to the enterance, glances right and *realizes* in a sort of shock the commotion that has magically appeared in front of him. He then gets in his car and moves it away. It was damn hilarious.
So afterwards, when it's out, I approach the car. A firemen goes, "I'd hate to be the poor son of a bitch that owns this piece of ****!" as I'm standing two inches behind him. I pat him on the back and say, " 'at's me, buddy." The look on his face was priceless.
I tried to talk to them about the entire process of why a car decides to spontaneously explode. Their best answer was, "It's been happening a lot around here lately. This is the fourth one in two weeks. It just seems to happen." I asked to see the security tape, but for some reason the Walton's only pay for "lookin'" cameras, not "recordin" cameras as a Sam's employee so eloquently pointed out. Being as though I only had liability on that piece of crap, I'm up ****'s creek without a mechanism for fighting it's current. I'm personally hoping more cars explode and some ******* arsonist is lighting them up. Then I might get some cash from someone.
That won't happen though. I'm sure my car randomly exploded. It's so absurd and ridiculous that it is just one of those things that *would* happen to me.
Here are some cell phone pictures I took:
I guess I have to get a job now. My evil plan of waiting as long as humanly possible thanks to diligent budgeting has been royally f'd over. Oh well. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me to stop doing nothing with my life. A nice exploding car....that's one hell of a way to get a point across....
So anyway, I'm checking out and a few dozen employees start running in and out of the store in a panic. Over the intercom they announce, "if you are parked in the side parking lot, you need to move your vehicle....NOW!"
Being that I was parked in said lot, I kinda put a little bounce in my step and "rode" the back of the cart to the door where the old receipt checking guy was doing his incredibly easy and pointless job.
As he's magic markering my receipt he says to some other employee, "Hey, Bob, will you tell the owner of a Red Buick in the side lot to come to the parking lot IMMEDIATELY."
Odd, I thought....I was driving a red Buick.
So I continue using the shopping buggy as a scooter and scoot myself to the parking lot where....you guessed it...my worthless deathtrap of a Buick was engulfed in flames and a dozen or so Sam's monkeys were dancing around my car with fire extinguishers. It was like trying to extinguish Dante's Inferno with a squirt gun.
And not a cool super soaker
....oh no. One of those dinky plastic jobs you buy at Kroger for 85 cents in the checkout isle.....
In time they realized that their futile attempts at making my car less on fire were...well...futile. Eventually the fire department shows up. For some reason they decided the best course of action was to beat my car with a giant ice pick looking thing (no, seriously). After realizing that you can't beat a fire to death, they whipped out the water hoses and finally took the fire out. By this point, I swear to God, no less than 400 people were standing in a circle around the car. I almost expected a guy with a hotdog on a stick to show up in a few seconds all pissed off that they extinguished his barbecue. You'd be amazed at the amount of smoke a 1998 Buick Regal LS can produce.
Then this idiot old guy notices all of the parking spaces available and actually parked his car three spaces away from my charred hunk of metal with a dozen firemen running around it, blasting it with water. He gets out all proud of his space, then while walking to the enterance, glances right and *realizes* in a sort of shock the commotion that has magically appeared in front of him. He then gets in his car and moves it away. It was damn hilarious.
So afterwards, when it's out, I approach the car. A firemen goes, "I'd hate to be the poor son of a bitch that owns this piece of ****!" as I'm standing two inches behind him. I pat him on the back and say, " 'at's me, buddy." The look on his face was priceless.
I tried to talk to them about the entire process of why a car decides to spontaneously explode. Their best answer was, "It's been happening a lot around here lately. This is the fourth one in two weeks. It just seems to happen." I asked to see the security tape, but for some reason the Walton's only pay for "lookin'" cameras, not "recordin" cameras as a Sam's employee so eloquently pointed out. Being as though I only had liability on that piece of crap, I'm up ****'s creek without a mechanism for fighting it's current. I'm personally hoping more cars explode and some ******* arsonist is lighting them up. Then I might get some cash from someone.
That won't happen though. I'm sure my car randomly exploded. It's so absurd and ridiculous that it is just one of those things that *would* happen to me.
Here are some cell phone pictures I took:
I guess I have to get a job now. My evil plan of waiting as long as humanly possible thanks to diligent budgeting has been royally f'd over. Oh well. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me to stop doing nothing with my life. A nice exploding car....that's one hell of a way to get a point across....
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Now you know the reason.
hope you get a newer car. A better car. a nicer car.
