Be Bad For Me(13)

"How may I help you?" There was a young good looking guy at the counter. He looked around her age group, maybe a little younger.

"Yes, I had a flat tire on the freeway and I'm ridin' on the spare. The  tow truck driver from A Plus Service Towing recommended you guys for  some new tires."

"Well, you've come to the right place. We'll take care of you."

The guy took her information in the system and asked for her keys to go  verify some information about her car. When he came back inside, he  asked, "What kind of tires do you want to put back on your car?"

"If you have the same exact brand, that's fine. Do you have a better brand?"

"Yes, the one's you have on there now actually come standard on your  vehicle. I would recommend Yokohama or Michelin," the guy said, typing  in some information into the computer.

"Either is fine. Whatever is better. How long will it take?"

"Well, it is Friday and we're already pretty busy as you can see, but I  could see about getting you out of here in an hour or so. Will that  work?"

She looked at the time on her cell phone and sighed, "I guess."

"I'm Troy, by the way. Our waiting rooms are over to the right, if you want to have a seat."         

     



 

As she walked over to the waiting room, she could feel Troy's eyes  staring her down. She took an empty seat next to the businessman typing  away on his laptop, picked up a magazine, and thought about the hour  that she would have to waste waiting for her car. She couldn't remember  the last time she waited for her car to be serviced. Usually, Anthony  did it for her or they dropped the car off earlier that day and then  came and picked it up that evening. If only Anthony would answer his  phone. What if she had been stranded? As she flipped through two or  three issues of People magazine and occasionally glanced up to watch a  few clips from CNN News, almost an hour had passed.

"Annette Reynolds!" She recognized that it was Troy's voice calling her  from the front desk. She jumped up happy that she was finally getting  out of that stuffy shop. Almost everyone that had been waiting in there  before her was now gone.

Troy came from behind the desk and met her. "Ms. Reynolds, the service  tech just pulled your car up and we realized that we didn't have your  size tires in stock."

Annette shook her head, not wanting to hear anymore bad news.

"But don't worry. We have someone bringing over four new tires from the  location down the street and he should be here in about fifteen minutes  with them. As soon as he comes in, we'll put those bad boys on and  you'll be out of here in no time."

Annette put her hand on her hips. "How long does it take to put on the  tires? Another hour?" She was getting really, really mad. Two hours of  her precious time was lost between the guy replacing her flat tire on  the interstate and sitting in the waiting room for her tires to be  replaced.

The guy shrugged. "Maybe thirty minutes"

"Look, you promised me an hour. Shouldn't you have checked your stock  room before completing the service ticket? I have been waiting in that  little waiting room for almost an hour and you're telling me I have to  wait another hour?" First it's the flat tire, she's stuck in a little  stuff waiting room, Anthony won't answer his phone, and now this?

"I apologize. Once the tires get here, I assure you that we'll do  everything in our power to get you on the road soon." Troy looked a  little scared, so she decided to back off a bit.

"Okay … please … I would appreciate that greatly." She switched back over to  the waiting area and searched her purse for some gum. On top of  everything else, she hadn't eaten since lunch and she was hungry. There  were several food places in walking distance, but she was not in the  mood for walking. She was ready to get her car and get the heck out of  there. Her phone buzzed letting her know that she had a text.



Bianca: WELL? DID YOU MAKE IT TO THE SHOP? YOU NEVER CALLED ME.

Oops! She had forgotten to call Bianca back letting her know she had made it here okay.



Annette: YEAH! IVE BEEN HERE OVER AN HOUR AND THEY STILL HAVEN'T TOUCHED  MY CAR. I'M ABOUT TO GO OFF ON SOMEONE BECAUSE IM NOT ABOUT TO BE IN  THIS BITCH ALL NIGHT.



Bianca: CALL ME IF YOU CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE AND I'LL COME BY AND GET YA.

As if trying to infuriate Annette even more, Troy called a girl to the  front desk to let her know that her car was ready. How could that girl's  car be ready before hers when she just arrived thirty minutes ago? It  should have been first come, first serve … just like at the drive-thru.  She was certainly not coming to this repair shop again. She had in mind  to ask for her car keys and leave, but she had already been here a long  time and it wouldn't make any sense to leave now.

Troy appeared around the corner with his clipboard in his hands. "Ms.  Reynolds. He just brought your tires and we are pulling your car around  the back right now. We know you've been waiting a long time. Would you  like a soda or something?"

"No, thanks."

Troy disappeared back behind his desk.

Thirty more minutes later and two more customers left out the door and  she was still sitting there. She went around the corner to find that  Troy was no where to be found behind the front counter. As she turned  around, she saw Troy standing outside smoking with two guys on a  motorcycle and their chicks behind them. They were laughing and talking  loudly, while she was inside waiting on her motherfucking car for over  two hours! How could this fool be working and hanging out with friends  at the same time? She walked over to the door, stepped outside, and they  all stopped laughing, probably because the angry look on her face.

"Excuse me. I don't mean to be rude, but will you check to see if my car is ready, PLEASE!"

""Oh, I'm sorry," Troy began, dropping his cigarette butt on the ground.         

     



 

"Damn, baby," one of his friends commented. "You look good. I got room  for one more on the back of my bike." The guy, who was kind of cute, was  looking at her provocatively.

The girl on the back of the motorcycle looked at her and winked. "And I  don't mind sharing," she said. The girl was cute as well, but Annette  didn't get down like that.

"I've been waiting on my car for the past two hours and I really need to  be somewhere like an hour ago, so could you please check on my  muthafuckin' car?"

"Damn, you got a foul ass mouth to be such a fine ass chick," his friend commented again. "I think I like ‘dat."

"Im sorry. Here I come." Troy said, moving past her and holding the door open for her.

When Troy followed her inside, she said, "I need to speak to your manager."

"There's no need for that," he said, picking up some paper work and her  keys out of a file pocket on the wall. "See? Your car is ready."

"So you mean to tell me that my shit was ready a long time ago and your  ass was out there talkin' to your friends and I told you I needed to be  somewhere?" She was utterly pissed.

"Man, give a nigga a break. If you weren't so damn fine and shit, I would curse your ass out, so please calm down."

"Can you bring you manager out here?"

"The manager isn't here." He handed her the keys to her car.

"Then do you have an immediate supervisor?" she said, snatching her keys.

"Hold on, Shawty … " He smacked his teeth and huffed as if he had a  problem with it, and then disappeared in the back where they were  repairing other cars.

Annette rolled her eyes, and tapped her hand on the countertop, getting  impatient, waiting for him to return. While waiting, her cell phone rang  and she looked down to open up her clutch purse to get it out. Before  she could reach it, a familiar voice interrupted the process.

"Hello. What can I--"

When she looked up, she completely forgot what she was mad about and he  completely forgot what he was saying. It was Jordan! Jordan, the guy she  had met at the club. For some reason, he looked even more handsome in  navy blue Dickies work suit. His collared work shirt was unbuttoned  revealing his wife beater and a well-defined torso. His grease-stained  rugged jeans were baggy, but they sat perfectly at the top of his  muscular waist.

"Uh, Uh … " Words were at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say them.

"This customer, here, is angry at me because she thinks her car took too  long. I told her you had to bring the tires from the dealership and she  still--"

Jordan lifted a finger and cut Troy off. "Thanks, Troy. I heard you in  the back. Do me a favor and get ready to lock up?" Jordan asked, not  even taking his eyes off her. "So, Annette … we meet again."

He remembered her name.

"Oh, you know this smart-assed mouth chick?" Troy was still behind the counter looking at them.

"Troy!" Jordan turned around and looked at Troy.