Fortunately enough, the service clerk was friendly and, owing to his honorable age and self-effaced fear of computers, quite talkative while he fumbled around in menus and hit "enter" far too many times than could have possibly been necessary. We bantered about what-not, and he asked if they would be able to keep my car over the weekend; I'd already said 'yes,' but I re-iterated it with:
"I've got my girlfriend's car I'll be able to use. And speaking of, she's supposed to pick me up; where is she?"The latter sentence seems in hindsight obviously rhetorical, but since it did come from my mouth I wouldn't count out a bias. What he said next showcased the fact that he probably didn't realize this:
"She's probably out with another guy."
"Wouldn't surprise me, but the only guy she'd be out with is our little dog!"As I'm sure you suspected or expected, this led to:
"So what type of dog is he?"If you're reading this, I'd place big odds you know me and therefore already know the answer, but in the case I might actually have fan
"All the time my kids were growing up, we had pugs. In fact, when my I got divorced, I got the dog, because my wife didn't want her. Which is fine, ya know, she's great. Her name's Jules. When people used to ask if I missed my wife, I would to tell them that Jules reminded me a lot of her.
She snores, and she smells like an old goat."