Thursday, January 17, 2008

Blood, Sweater, and Tears

I had a hole in my fucking sweater...but now that hole is GONE! I took my prized winter garment to three separate dry cleaners in hopes of getting it repaired, but they all laughed at me. They said it couldn't be done. Well those chinks never set foot inside GEORGE'S ALTERATIONS!

I had almost given up hope on my beautiful knit sweater. I was ready to shove it in a paper sack along with my soiled undies and donate it to Badwill. But then I saw that neon sign glowing in the twilight sky, beckoning me from afar. "GEO ALTER IONS," the sign read. (Those fucking neon lights never work properly.) I slammed on the brakes, made an illegal U-turn, and swerved into the parking lot, killing two innocent pedestrians in the process.

It was pouring down rain, but luckily there was an empty handicrapped space right in front of the door. While I am not physically handicapped, I did consider myself emotionally handicapped by the anguish brought forth by my mangled pullover. So I pulled into the parking space, grabbed my garment, and went inside.

The old bat behind the counter was a hundred years old if she was a day. Even worse, she barely spoke a word of English. This made communication rather difficult, but I shall do my best to transcribe the conversation that transpired.....

Dyck: Yo bitch, I got myself a sweater emergency here.
Lady: Eh?
Dyck: My sweater has a hole in it.
Lady: Eh?
Lady: Holy shit, that's an ugly sweater.

She tossed my sweater aside like one of Ms. Babble's unplanned babies and told me to come back tomorrow. So I headed back out, tripped over a handicrapped guy crawling across the parking lot, and went home.


It had been a full day since I left my precious sweater in the hands of George's Alterations. I was quite anxious to see if they had been able to salvage it. The rain had stopped by now, so I just parked by the curb in front of the fire hydrant and went inside.....

Dyck: Yo bitch, where's my sweater?
Lady: Eh?
Dyck: The sweater I left here yesterday. Where is it?
Lady: Eh?
Lady: Oh yeah, you're the loser with the hideous sweater. It's right here.

Friends, what I saw next was nothing short of amazing. It was like that hole never even existed! I couldn't even tell where it was! I immediately fell to my knees, held up my newly mended garment, and wept tears of joy. An hour went by before I was able to regain my composure.

Dyck: Yo bitch, what do I owe you?
Lady: For you, no charge.
Dyck: Eh?
Lady: Zilch. Nada. On the house.
Dyck: Eh?
Lady: Look, I figure any guy who wears a sweater like that could use a break. Have a nice day.

I didn't want to give the old crow a chance to change her mind, so I snatched up my beautiful sweater and got the hell out of there. When I got outside, I saw flames shooting from the roof of the day care center next door, with several firefighters standing helplessly near the Dyckmobile. As I tiptoed through the maze of dead bodies laid out on the ground by rescue workers, my sweater was illuminated by the flames piercing the night sky. It was truly a miracle.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to put on that sweater, and I will never take it off again as long as I live!

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