A few months ago I accidentally damaged my boyfriend's car. Not a driving accident, more of a passenger accident. I broke something on the passenger side of the car while travelling in it, and being the dutiful girlfriend, I promised that I would replace it. After all, I broke it.
Yesterday I finally got around to it.
Now allow me to explain something... I'm no dumbass when it comes to cars. I can't tell you the finer points of the internal combustion engine, but I can easily recognise one car from another, and know which car to avoid. My other half has commented that 'for a girl' I know a lot about cars. This is mainly because I watch a lot of
Dave.
Anyhow, I do know when to play the 'girl card'. Like when I need some bits for the car and don't know how to fit them. Yesterday I never even got that far. I walked into the parts office of the dealership, hadn't even had chance to say hello when the manager used the most inappropriate term of endearment I have ever had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of.
He called me Blossom.... (does the picture make sense to anyone now?)
Now I obviously did something right because I came out with a 15% discount on parts, but my other half has now decided that he is sending me in from now on...
I'm now sure how long I can grit my teeth for, even in the light of a 15% discount.