Why is it that every time some chick in an office building needs a tire changed, they go running straight to the warehouse?  Let me explain something to you…just because someone works in a warehouse, does not mean that they’re interested in helping you with your car problems.  Change the fucking tire yourself…it’s not that hard.

And before anyone decides that I’m simply not a chivalrous fellow because of this post, allow me to pre-tort:

I have no problems changing a tire for a woman in trouble, or even one whom I simply know and like.  Hell…I’d change a tire for a male friend if he didn’t know how!  What I do have a problem with, though, is the fact that every other man in an office building is considered too fucking important to bother with tire-changing, while the warehouse folk are barely respected at all until those unfortunate times.

So, yeah…fuck you and the cars you rode in on.