“‘I think if they win, I should get all of the credit, and if they lose, I should not be blamed at all,’ Trump told NewsNation, adding: ‘But it will probably be just the opposite.’” –CNN, 11/9/22
I’m the mechanic who changed your tires last week even though you actually needed a new carburetor. Don’t worry, I charged you for the carburetor and not the tires. The carburetor is much more expensive. I also spilled Fanta on your passenger seat and got pizza grease all over the steering wheel when we took the car out for a quick 170 mile test drive to my aunt’s house in Poughkeepsie.
Anyways, I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page about the job I did last week. I know you’re super unhappy with us because you dropped the car off at 10 am, we said it would be done around 2, but when you came to pick it up we said it would take at least three more hours and then we sexually harassed your Golden Retriever.
I just want to make one thing very clear: If your car suddenly goes 100 mph even though we dropped it off the lift and it probably won’t go over 40 without sounding like a dump truck backing up over the carburetor we were supposed to install for you, we’re taking all the credit.
But, if you’re going 70 mph down the freeway on your way to my aunt’s house in Poughkeepsie because she really needs some milk and I can’t get up there this week and the wheels just happen to fly off in four different directions, hitting the Volkswagen behind you and two the right of you (you’re being tailed by Jimmy and Bob, two guys from the shop who thought you were kind of a bitch about the whole thing), it’s not our fault. In fact, it’s probably your fault. Were you a bitch to the wheels too?
I’m not saying the wheels are going to fly off your car, but I’m also not saying that. You can’t blame me that Jimmy’s mom Susan came in wearing a new blouse from Kohl’s and I got a little distracted. She just got out of the hospital last week. Looking real fine for 97. I bet that new hip works well too, if you catch my drift. But the point is, whatever happens next isn’t my fault. Unless everything is fine, in that case, leave us a nice review on Yelp. My aunt prints them out and puts them on her fridge.
This isn’t a hard concept to grasp. Okay, I may have taken the wheels off a Ford F150, gotten distracted a little distracted when Bob crashed a boat into the garage, and then put the wheels off the F150 on your Mini Cooper, but that would also explain why your car doesn’t stay on the ground when you go above 15 mph and the lowest air condition setting is 98 degrees.
I hope for my sake that the wheels don’t fall off your car. That would be a real shame. Those were some good wheels. To be honest, I’m more concerned about the guy with the F150. I was fixing my nephew’s tricycle at the same time. You can do the math there. Not a pretty picture. But like I already said 50 times, not my problemo.
I’ll take the good credit and none of the responsibility. It’s worked fine for me so far. Tell your Golden Retriever to call me back.
Bobbie Armstrong is a former child, current writer and student. Her work has appeared on McSweeney’s, Slackjaw, Belladonna Comedy, Little Old Lady, and her parents’ fridge. Follow her existential crisis @bobbien_