MAD MEN


Last Monday we planned with Midas to replace and install a new muffler with pipes on our old Toyota pickup. Over in New Hampshire, a haul to get there & back on a hot day. A formal appointment was made for 11 in the morning five days ago. All was on the up & up.

Of course we are there right on the dot today. The woman at the desk who we remember from three years ago (last muffler=why we return=warranty on muffler, not the pipes). She says a 15 minute wait. I check out the two workers, kids, both okay. They're milking their time but still okay, they've been told to work this way. The two managers running the floor are what concern me. One slob who is doing nothing but walking around and joking. TGIF written all over him. Then the shaved head character with tats and goatee and attitude. I also remember him from three years ago, likely he's married to the woman at the desk.

A half hour goes by. Nothing on our truck. At 11:30, with party horn blaring, a van arrives to order their din-din, all the workers pile out of the bays and leave their work to gab for at least 15 minutes while someone in the van makes their junk. Gab. Cars up on lifts unattended. Not a worker working. Our truck still out in the sun and it's 11:45. Hasn't been touched. I tell Sweetheart to hold tight (she's losing it) so I can see if these clowns are actually going to go back and forth and joke with the van from their work, touch a tool, head back, more jokes. During all this time two other bays are free and clear to bring any customer vehicle into.

Our truck sits until noon and then I see one skinny kid go out and bring the truck in and raise it on the lift. It's been an hour. We've been waiting this long just for an estimate. They've known we were coming since Monday. I go out to shaved head and say to him, square in the eye: "I just wanted to see if you would go past an hour before you even thought to touch my truck, which had a 11 o'clock appointment. Get it down off the lift, we're leaving. I'm also writing Midas headquarters." He stares at me.

The kid who takes it down off the lift is a little afraid of me and I smile to let him know nothing is wrong except with management. The kid apologizes and I tell him "all is okay, but it's too bad you aren't allowed to work like a real worker." He nods and actually says, "I know." We leave. Fuck'em. I wouldn't give them a dime if I was broken down on the highway.

The very worse of corporate and government sleaze bag America has now leeched down into the every day worker, the guy who taught me 50 years ago to pick up after myself, wash off the tools, hustle, tie the load down tight, clean out the truck cab, coil the hose, pull out every nail in the board then straighten the nails, wash out the brush, hold the ladder, check the oil, sharpen the blade, watch the line, sweep the floor, hang the door right, to open the door, to greet the day.