Miniature Rose: Why'd they have to go and make everything so complicated?

On my way into Target yesterday, I picked up a "lucky" penny from the asphalt.

Big mistake.

Huge.

Okay, not so huge, really, but I'm blaming the penny for an annoying cascade of events.

I had gone to Target to pick up a bag of Hershey's Kisses, with which I planned to make some Peanut Butter Blossom cookies. Simple, right? Actually, it wasn't that simple. It took a good five minutes, standing in the candy aisle, to find a simple bag of unadulterated Hershey's Kisses.* They were buried amidst the various combinations and permutations of Kisses which the purveyors of those fine confections have foisted upon our collective sweet tooth: Cherry Cordial Kisses, Irish Cream Kisses, Kisses filled with the nectar of the topmost blossom of a rare flower which blooms only once every 42 years, and only on a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse.**

But find them, I did, and onward, I went, back to my beloved and trusty Amadeus. Amadeus is looking particularly spiffy these days, having just been outfitted with a set of Blizzaks to charge through the North Country's frequent snows. The symphony that is Amadeus' start up procedure began, and then was rudely interrupted by the off-key alarm signal, informing me that there was an "Air Bag Fault." Umm, okay .. that was rather unexpected!

I secured an appointment this afternoon at the local VW dealership. I brought my knitting, for even though I was confident that this was a minor problem involving a loose wire, I've learned that a stitch in time saves Rosie from a psychotic episode when dealing with the testosterone-soaked environment that is a car dealership.

After about two inches' worth of progress on the latest sock project, I was informed that the problem did, indeed, originate from a loose wire under the driver's seat. "It should only take about half an hour to fix it." I welcomed this as good news .. perhaps I could get all the way to the toe of the sock at this rate. As The Yarn Harlot says, I don't knit because I'm patient. I'm patient because I knit.

I didn't quite get to the toe before I was informed that, because Amadeus is nearly brand-spanking new, the VW dealership doesn't have the necessary, new-fangled "harness" to secure the damaged wire. Oh, and it won't be available until next week. Oh, and for safety reasons, VW could not let me drive Amadeus until this problem was fixed.

Breathe in .. breathe out .. knit a few more stitches ..

To their credit, the fine folks at VW assured me that they would provide me with a rental vehicle for the duration of Amadeus' convalescence. Oh! Okay! I said brightly. Can you get me a Beetle?

Ummm, no, that's not very likely, said the purveyor of the bad news.

Still brimming with the optimism which came with the aforementioned "lucky" penny, I said, Well, I guess that's okay. Just as long as it has snow tires.

Ummm, no .. they're all-season radials. But this will be a really nice, top of the line rental.

Yeah. I could see where this was going. More to the point, I could see where I wasn't going. Did I mention that this is my first Christmas off in three years? And that Amadeus, with his trusty Blizzaks, was going to take me and mine to visit my parents?

Still imbued with the buzz of serenity that only a few hours of knitting can provide, I asked if this top-of-the-line rental was equipped with heated seats, which are right up there with good snow tires in my prerequisites for civilized winter driving.

Jaws dropped in the testosterone-soaked waiting room. Geez, you don't want very much, do you? said one dude.

Actually, I don't think my expectations are particularly high. I spent many, many night shifts up to my elbows in fecal material - and I mean that both metaphorically and literally - in order to be able to buy Amadeus and his spiffy new Blizzaks. I expect a new car to function properly. And call me crazy, but when glitches occur, I expect the dealership to actually have the requisite parts to repair the problem in a timely fashion. At the very least, I would like them to join the 21st century and become familiar with the wondrous invention known as FedEx Overnight Delivery.

If that makes me a diva, so be it.

And this diva is going to slap one of these stickers on Amadeus when he comes home: