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Monday, November 17, 2008

Neither Cast Ye Your Pearls Before Swine

Full disclosure: I'm the pig the headline refers to.

I got my oil changed at Wal-Mart this evening. No big, they're cheap and they're close. I could do it myself for less, but not by a lot. And I hate doing an oil change.

So I get my car back and they've plastic wrapped my seat, including the head rest, and put a protective sheet of paper on the floor mat proclaiming the pride Wal-Mart takes in my car.



Mmmmkay. Thing is, it's logical from the standpoint of the hygienic standards you typically see in Wal-Mart's automotive section, at least in the one I go to. They guy who took my key this evening, he didn't even bother brushing his tooth before he came in to work.

But this is my car. I took a picture of the other side, too. The side that has fast food wrappers and Gladwares I need to take in and throw in the dish-washer and a newspaper and whatnot protecting the floor mat from the sun's damaging rays. I decided not to share it here because it makes my critique of the these hillbillies' grooming seem so ridiculous. Hypocritical, even.

I mean, even here you can see trash and soda stains, and this is the clean side. The passenger side would scare off Larry the Cable Guy. And what my kids do to the back seat is literally unspeakable.



Wrapping my seats, covering my floor mat? This is like putting those paper shoe coverlets on to keep from tracking dirt into a junk yard.

It's not as if this reflects some huge step up in Wal-Mart's service levels. I still got into my garage smelling the burnt-pepperoni aroma of oil they've spilled on the motor in the process of filling the crank case. If they'd do a better job of aiming the oil bottle or using a damn funnel, that might impress me.

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