Oil Spill

I have to be backing out of our driveway by 7:17 or I will be late for work. So I was quite proud when, for the first time this week, I actually left the house at 7:15. Imagine my surprise when I approached my car and heard a nasty, "Hey, You!" directed at me. I looked around and there was no other person on our street. "Hey! You there. Yeah, I mean you!" The voice sounded way too close to my car, and I have to admit that I was sort of scared. Hurriedly fumbling to open the door while juggling my ceramic 10-cup coffee cup (specially ordered for me by my thoughtful daughter), the voice suddenly shouted, "DOWN HERE!" I glanced near the left front tire and there, glistening in the very early sunlight, was an oil spot.

I'm sorry, but are you talking to me?

Do you see anybody else? (His tone was extremely condescending and quite rude. Since I really wanted to be on time, I decided to return the arrogance.)

Quite honestly, I didn't expect to be accosted by an oil spill this morning. I'm in a hurry. What do you want?

Excuuuuuse me. Here I was trying to alert you to my presence, so that your precious shoes wouldn't get soiled and this is the thanks I get?

Well, you could have been a little nicer, you know. You practically made me drop my coffee.

Heaven forbid you drop your coffee. It might get on your shoes, then what would you do?

My, my. Sounds like someone is just a tad jealous of my shoes.

Are you kidding me? Have you looked at me? Honey, I make rainbows. Kids love me.

That's just great, pretty boy. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to work.

Who's stopping you? But, hey, if I were you, I'd check my gauges before hot-footing it off to anywhere. I'm just saying...