Wednesday, September 17, 2014

More Proof the Universe Conspires to Keep Val in the Dark

Alas, poor T-Hoe. I knew him when he could see well. Now he’s as mono-ocular as a Cyclops. The left window to his soul has ceased to bring enlightenment to his driver. It has become a useless as antique glass in a second story window lead-painted shut and lined with yellowed newspapers.

It seems like only several months ago that T-Hoe had his cataracts removed. And now he’s half-blind!

Monday morning, my mom met me on the school parking lot so I could give her some chili and leftover fried rice and used tabloids. Because that’s what a good five-dollar daughter does.

“You know you have a headlight out, don’t you?”

Hmpf! What kind of scofflaw does she take me for? Of course I didn’t know that. You’d think I was one of those scofflaws who’d drive around without a passenger-side mirror for three months!

When I got inside the school building, high-stepping across the hall lest any snake/lizard/salamander/newts had set up shop outside my door over the weekend, I sent Hick a text.

“My left headlight is out.”

My Sweet Baboo sent back a message immediately, because he doesn’t work, it seems, but sits around searching for Coca Cola memorabilia on the employer’s internet.

“I’ll pick one up after work if they have it, but I might have to order one.”

You’d think I drove a Delorean, Edsel, Pacer, or Model T, what with there never seeming to be available parts for a 2008 Tahoe. I called Hick after work  to clarify the parts status.

“I ordered a headlight. Well. I’m GOING TO order one tomorrow. I want to make sure of the numbers. They’re in a book over in the BARn.”

“How long will it take to get one? I don’t want to get stopped for having a light out.”

“Well I can’t poop one out of my butt, Val!” That Hick. He sure can turn a phrase.

“I was only asking how long I would have to evade the police. Because those running lights are on in the daytime, and they’ll see me.”

“It might take up to three days. Those are not standard headlights. I put in different ones when the originals fogged up and I couldn’t get them unfogged. I’ll put on of the old foggy ones in until we get the new one.”

My Sweet Baboo. Rockin' the irregular auto parts like a champ!


  1. We used to call one headlight out a "Piddidle" I have no idea why. If you saw one when on a date you had to kiss. You may be responsible for starting a romance.

  2. So, Hick can't poop a car light out of his butt? I was beginning to think he could do anything! Ha!

  3. I love shade tree mechanics. Not that Hick is by any means shady, you understand.

  4. Oooo, I'm so disappointed. I wanted to see what kind of headlight Hick could poop out of his butt.

  5. My honey wouldn't respond with comments about pooping one out his butt, but definitely something about one of my breasts, if I told him one of my headlights was out.

  6. joeh,
    I will not be responsible for any babies conceived under the glow of T-Hoe's Cyclops light.

    I'm surprised Hick admitted this weakness. He usually puts forth the claim, then waits for it to be proven wrong. I suppose he did not want anybody probing for the truth in this matter.

    Then we won't discuss his plan to tell the insurance company that T-Hoe's passenger mirror was broken on the parking lot while he was visiting me in the hospital. Okay. He did tell them, but they had the audacity to ask for a police report.

    Alas, Madam, you must stay after school for tutoring in Val-blog-reading comprehension. Hick said he CAN'T poop a light out of his butt. So you'll never see that kind of light unless your head is...well...up Hick's butt where that constipated light is stuck.

    Wait. You're disappointed because you can't see the light, because Hick can't poop it out? Um...never mind.

    I'm afraid that speaks more of YOUR antics than Bill's, my dear. Perhaps if you would refrain from taking out your headlights and flashing them all willy-nilly, you honey would not jump to such a conclusion.

  7. Kathy,
    Shocking, I know...but Hick is constipated in the headlamp department.