Dr-Fix-It! Notebook Archive:
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What is it about Jaguars ? . . . John was proud of the delicate work he had accomplished with the Bobcat's bucket. He had just completed creating a nice little snow ridge around the gray Jaguar when the radio hanging from his belt squawked, "Front Desk to John. Report to the General Manager's Office ASAP." John dumped one more bucket-load of snow near the car's driver-side door and turned the Melroe BobCat around. He headed toward the Administration Building. When John walked into the General Manager's Office, he caught the GM in a relaxed pose. Todd had pushed his plush chair back from the desk. With one shoe on the desk, he was thoughtfully rolling a pencil in both hands while watching the snow swirl outside the window. John sat down in the leather armchair directly in front of Todd's desk. Todd glanced at John and then returned his gaze to the window, "What in the world did you say to Mrs. Dupris?" "Wow", John declared, " That was fast! Not five minutes ago, I was clearing snow around Mrs. Dupris' Jaguar . . ." Todd interrupted, "What in the world did you say to Mrs. Dupris?" "Well, I need to take a minute to set up the story", John replied. "I'm in no hurry. Tell me a story." John took a deep breath, "Well, with all of this snow, the snow plow just wasn't working anymore. I couldn't push the banks any higher. With the plow, I would have to keep pushing more and more snow into the snow banks. We were losing a lot of parking lot area that way. So, I cranked up the BobCat. With the front-end loader, I could lift the snow up and dump it over the BACK of the snow bank. Plus, the BobCat is much more exact. I could get into empty parking spots between cars and back-blade. The parking lot was starting to look real nice." Todd nodded, " I understand". John continued, "OK, So - I was starting to back-blade the parking space right next to Mrs. Dupris' car when she comes out on her patio waving frantically at me. I see her jumping around up there so I turn off the engine and shout up to her, 'Is there anything I can do to help you?' " "That was good", Todd said, "What did she want?" John said, " She didn't want anything. She just started yelling, 'Get away from that car! Get that hideous machine away from my car! I don't want that damned tractor anywhere near my Jaguar! That is a classic Jaguar! That Jaguar is worth 42 thousand dollars...' " Todd said," I can feel that we are getting close to the punch line now. And just what WAS your polite and considerate reply to Mrs. Dupris?" John leaned forward in the chair, "Well, She said: 'That Jaguar is worth 42 thousand dollars!'. So, I hollered back: 'That's nothing! This BobCat is worth 50 thousand dollars!' " Todd closed his eyes and rolled back in his chair, "Oooh boy . . . What happened next?" John sat back in the plush leather armchair, " Up until a little while ago, I always thought the term 'Dancing Mad' was just an expression. But Mrs. Dupris started dancing on her patio. She was jumping up and down, flinging her arms all over the place and yelling the foulest language I have ever heard come out of a little old lady. Man, she laid into me good! I couldn't get a word in edgewise so I finally hollered that I was just joking. She was still dancing and screaming when I started up the BobCat and went back to work. That's when your page came over the radio." Todd put both feet on the floor and pulled himself square to the desk, " Yes, as soon as you turned your back on Mrs. Dupris, she was on the phone to me. Of the hundreds of things she called you, I will only repeat 'insolent' and 'smart-ass'. I politely agreed with her and promised I would fire you immediately." John swallowed hard. Todd kicked his chair backward and put his foot back on the desktop. As he gazed at the snow flakes swirling outside the window, he shook his head and mumbled, "I wonder what it is about Jaguars . . ." Continue -> |