I had some errands to run this morning and my route took me into Carleton Place. I found myself at a light staring at our local auto glass repair shop.
Perfect!
Why you ask? Well, my truck has had a cracked windshield since Boxing Day. The windshield was chipped while driving sometime in September. I took it in to repair the chip, but it was always visible even after they sealed it. So when it cracked into a 4 foot long eyesore, I wasn't surprised.
I had been meaning to bring it back in to the auto glass shop to schedule a time to have the windshield replaced.
I was giddy that I had actually remembered. I pulled in and went inside the office to ask the tech to come out and have a look. He said he would be happy to and followed me out.
He looked puzzled the minute the door closed behind us. I figured he was trying to come up with subtle ways to hit on me and moved on to show him the crack. I pointed to the windshield and ... shit.
I turned a big shade of bright red. The technician now looked extrememly bewildered and I just looked foolish. I hadn't taken the truck with the crack in the windshield. I had taken John's truck. The windshield is crack free.
I pulled it togethere though! Like a trooper. I went inside, booked an appointment to bring the actual damaged truck in and walked out. Then I got into the undamaged truck and cried. I'm such a tool!
