Karma Swings Her Mood

By Bruce Felps

Karma might be a bitch but she also comes with a wicked sense of humor.

After wrapping up Friday’s work day I decided to chip in to the care and feeding of two dogs — a pair of chow-mix canines, the male black and the female light brown — referenced the day’s final posting.

Siobhan and Hunter, my kids

As evidenced by the photo at left, I have a very soft and very deep spot in my heart for a pair of chow-mix canines, the male black and the female light brown.

I bought about a week’s worth of dog food for the rescued pair to help ease the expenses of the single-mother-rescuer and took the bag to her place of employment. Being Friday afternoon, I also took a swing by a neighborhood store to pick up some adult beverages.

After making the purchase, I returned to my car — which makes all the sense in the world — started it up, backed out of the space, only to have the Miata cease running. It wanted to turn over when I tried to restart it but it lacked the energy. I know it’s hot but c’mon … come oooon … damn it.

I called a dear friend — hi Melanie — who happened to be nearby. She picked me up and gave me a lift home, where I sat, with opened adult beverage, and said, aloud, “Hey Karma, what the hell?”

I mean, here I was trying to lend a helping hand only to pull back a bloody stump.

A few phone calls later I had arranged for a tow truck and secured a spot in the following day’s repair queue at the Ross-Greenville Firestone location. My mind spent the rest of the evening a’swirl with thoughts of no good deed going unpunished, a financially debilitating repair bill, the cost of a new car, and a pair of chow-mix canines, the male black and the female light brown.

I was to meet the tow truck driver at the car about 8 yesterday morning. I called him on the walk over, got his voice mail, and left a message.

I arrived at the car and, just out of curiosity, tried to start it. It fired right up … hmmm … so I drove it to the repair shop for a checkup — $80 just to hook it to a diagnostic computer — which it really shouldn’t have needed since it got a tune-up about three weeks ago.

I called back the tow truck driver, got his voice mail, and left a message.

A couple of three hours later, Dee at the Firestone shop called and said the Miata was ready to go home. I got there, asked about the problem, and started to pull the debit card from my wallet. She said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “No, no, Karma called and took care of the bill. No charge.”

“[blink, blank stare],” I responded. “No charge? Not even the diagnostic? Can an auto repair shop do that?”

Turned out to be nothing more than a loose wire — and this gets a little technical so pay attention — somewhere under the hood. I dunno, I’m a mechanical, among many other types of, moron.

Anyway, Karma backpedaled on her earlier treatment and made everything OK.

She did, though, stop short of going way above and beyond by delivering last night’s winning Lotto numbers. Really, 1-6-7-8-13-24? Pffftttt, c’mon.

Bruce Felps owns and operates East Dallas Times.  He still hasn’t heard back from the tow truck driver.

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  1. I suspect Karma’s name is Melanie in this case. (Hi, Mel!)

  1. 1 Uncle Sugar Ain’t So Sweet « East Dallas Times

    […] while waiting for the tow truck — yup, that’s another chapter in this story — I sucked it up and opened the letter, which, in ALL CAPS-bold type, said I was at risk of […]




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