Colin Powell: Master Jeep mechanic
on 5/22/2003 (0)
I have to admit I was a bit pensive about taking my ailing Jeep Cherokee to secretary of state Colin Powell's repair shop, figuring it would be overly commercialized and all,but I NEVER suspected that Colin himself would be fixin' my very own Jeep!
|"If you break it, I fix it...so don't break it!!" |
Colin, dressed in green camouflage fatigues, tossed a metric torque wrench like a circus juggler, snagging it behind his back, while, at the same time, doin' the ol' "Hey! what's that grease spot on your shirt! Me looking down and getting my nose flicked.
I rubbed my nose and managed a weak "he-he" laugh, when Colin started tearing into my jeep:
"Welllll...what we have here, son is a Quadra-drive, Progressive 4-D featuring a high output 4.7 liter Power tech V-8 WITH..."
Powell yanked a spark plug cable and wapped it at my forehead, where it stuck between my eyes, paused...and with a resounding "YEEE-HAAA!" , pulled me within an inch of his nose, adding
"Selec-Trac, 4WD! GAHAHA!!"
With an embarrassing "plook", he yanked the cable from my brow, leaving a red "O" which I rubbed curiously and glanced at repeatedly in the side view mirror.
Powell submerged himself waist deep in my Jeep, muttering something about Japanese parts, when I asked him why he was fixing Jeeps personally, he spun around like a quadrapalegic on a skateboard, and grabbed my white shirt with a grease filled palm:
"I don't want to spend the rest of my life giving speeches...I try to be the same person I was yesterday...Have a vision, be demanding!"
On that note, he tore into my engine again, this time using only his bare hands, he tore off the master cylinder, dropped in a new gasket,dropped in 8 plugs and wires, AND tweaked the carb.
With a devilish, playfull grimace, he reached behind my ears and conjured up my keys, and slammed the hood down, simultaneously.
BAHAHA! Thanks son, have a nice day!!
I gathered what was left of my dignity, reached back and took off the "kick me, I'm a Democrat" sticker he taped to my ass, and drove off.
Driving home, I passed George W. Bush's cowboy boot store, and kept driving! Tennis shoes and Jeeps are close enough for this wrangler!isplay:n0" style="display:no
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