Dumb Shit Me, and Asshole Them

The VPC- the bane of the fucking KMC.
Now, that isn't to say it wasn't entirely my fault, because it was, motherfucker, but don't stand there and be an as....
Wait- back up, let me explain for those who just joined us.

Bright and early- without coffee, I walked out the door with a list of shit to do as long as K2's leg. I was even smiling. First stop the Vehicle Processing Center. The registration on the POS is due. Registration entails paperwork, an inspection, and more paperwork. Usually, on a very good day, the process takes about an hour. Usually.

Yay! My turn to drive up to the asshat airbaby in the inspection bay. He asks if I have a spare tire. "Of course I do."
"I need to see it."
"Um... okay...."
So I open the trunk and start digging down thru the jackets, backpacks and various other bits of shit we have thrown in the trunk, to pry the plastic nut off the spare cover. Just when my arm was about to fall off from spinning the stupid thing, it comes loose and I pull the cover up- see there... lookie- pretty spare tire. I am already irritated by this point, as in 4 years I have never been asked to show my tire before. I close the trunk and say OH! FUCK!!!!!!

That's right. In the process of showing this pudwhacker my tire, I had dropped my keys in the fucking trunk. (Cue the immediate freak out.) He asks if I have a button to pop it.
"No."
"What about a spare key at home?"
"No. I don't have a spare key."
I stand there, so pissed off at myself that I am crying and shaking. I have no idea what I am going to do at this point... I decided that kicking the car was a good option, so I did that. Oddly enough it didn't help.

The German in charge of inspections comes over and asks me if I have a trunk popping button.
"No."
"A spare key?"
"No, there is only one key."
"Does anyone have a spare key?"
"NO. There is ONE key to this car, and it's in there."
"And you don't have a trunk pop button? ... The keys are in the trunk?"
"YES."
"What about your glove box? No button, or extra key?"

Yep- I fucking lost it. "Jesus H Christ! Don't you think if there was an easy fucking answer I would be doing that instead of standing here crying and freaking out?!!"

(Gee whiz mister... I'm just a girl- what's a button?) You patronizing motherfucker! He sees me crying and losing my mind, and asks me four times if I have a key or button... Christ on Crutches, you prick, how stupid do you think the average American woman is?! He then proceeded to bitch at and lecture me about how my car was blocking the inspection bay. Well, no shit, Einstein. Don't help me figure out an answer- certainly don't offer me your phone to get some help, asshole- just remind me that I am in YOUR fucking way while I am having a nervous breakdown.

I was so pissed off, I could have thrown my goddamned car out of the way. I put it in neutral, (which neither of these "car experts" knew was possible with an automatic,) and proceeded to push it out of the way- by myself as the German was standing there lecturing me on how I shouldn't get mad at him. Pushing a full sized, 4 door sedan, alone, I lectured right back and told him if he didn't treat people like they were stupid because they had tits, he wouldn't have gotten yelled at. The bighearted fucktarded Airman decided to help push my POS when I was 95% of the way done. All I could think was, "Don't do me any favors, fuckwad! Get your pussy-petters off my car!" He was oddly silent after my exchange with the Local National. Good idea. He would have gotten it both barrels, despite blame or fault.

I had to call my husband's work and out myself to one of the guys there just to get the phone number to get help- asshole German was otherwise occupied and couldn't spare 10 seconds to give me his phone book- so I got laughed at by K2's coworker.. (I can deal with that later- I'll throttle his ass next time I see him.) Asshole German was even nice enough to shoot me a dirty look for making 3 phone calls on his DSN phone. Lovely.

The awesome mechanic I have had for 4 years came, and got me and my POS. He drilled out the trunk lock, and he charged me a very small amount of money for it. He's fucking awesome. Best mechanic in the KMC.

Now I have a new key for the trunk of the car- a fucking flat head screw driver. I didn't get it inspected today, as I was too inclined to go back there and throw both those bastards head first into the pit. Yes, it was my fault the whole thing happened, but then to be talked to like a fucking big titty blonde in a cheerleader outfit...? How I am praying there is someone else there tomorrow.