Muttley. Do you know who that is? The dog that raced Penelope Pittstop. He'd giggle this weird little giggle and his shoulders would go up and down. Now, keep that image in your head, and times it by three.
Saturday was also the day of Muttley, Muttley & Muttley. I'm still at Returns, and these three small men (more like half-men than dwarves or elves) walk in. They stand in the aisle, staring this way, then that.
One approaches me. I can only assume he's in charge because he's the tallest--and that ain't saying much for him either. He mutters something about "chains and oil." and I ask him for more information. "My car, my car" he mutters.
M: We don't carry automotive supplies. Try KMart (points with right arm); Walmart (points with left arm) or Sears down at the Mall (points over back with right arm)
#1: Yeah, yeah. My car.
M: KMart (right arm); Walmart (left arm); or Sears down at the Mall (over back)
#1:
His cohorts stand in place for a full 5, then the next one walks up to me.
#2: Oil and chains?
M: For your car?
#2:
M: We don't carry automotive supplies. Try KMart (points with right arm); Walmart (points with left arm); or Sears down at the Mall (points over back with right arm)
Are you seeing the patterns here yet?
#2: Yeah yeah. My car.
M: KMart (right arm) Walmart (left arm) Sears down that Mall (over back)
He and the final cohort Muttley giggle some more then wander off. I see them hook up with #1 down by the self checkouts, and the approach someone else--someone I have not contacted in any way, and who, while sincere in his efforts, doesn't strike me as overly confident or brilliant in his job. Anyway, while I watch, I see his right arm, and his left arm going in much the same dance step I was doing just a few minutes ago.
How do I unsticky myself and stop this?
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