It's amazing how karma works itself into your life; as quiet as a mouse, yet as painful as a slap in the face. I will explain my karmatic sting...
For years I have been a Chevrolet fanatic, boosting the Camaro's brute power over any other model from the "big 3" or any other import ricer. I still am a bit nutso, except for the fact that I now have found interest in older Volkswagens. Currently, I am in dire need of some help in finishing a welding project on the old Volks. I have sent numerous emails and left several voice messages with many seemingly skilled welders in the valley. I have received some response, nothing promising, the worst being an answer to an email I sent off a few days ago.
I sent my inquiry to a local classic car body shop asking for a quote on the welding job I needed. I noted the year, type of car and added that though it may not be one of the classic muscle cars they so haphazardly plastered across their terribly designed website, it is a classic nonetheless.
An email flashed in my inbox yesterday; I opened it and was stunned and a little taken aback to find their simple response. "We only work on American cars here."
Speechless, flabbergasted, shocked, stunned, astounded! It immediately reminded me of the old Star Wars scene when R2D2 and C3Po tried to enter the cantina in Mos Eisley when they were confronted by the slob of a bartender: "we don't serve your kind here.."
I did not know what to say. But after mulling it over for a few days, I figured hey, karma sucks, times change, muscle car rednecks do not, and life goes on as I continue my new found hobby, officially shunned from the world of American muscle cars.
"Don't call me a mindless philosopher, you overweight glob of grease!"