Not a Toyota commercial

My God how Jim and Judith must hate to have to put up with each other in their new condo since August. 

"We were forty-two years in a house by the airport. There used to be services around there. I got used to it. I had a routine.” Jim says.

It’s complicated now that they are down to one car and decided to go condo out at the edge of the county country. Nothing and nowhere to walk to.

“You like the condo. Don’t you, Jim?”

He’s looking out the window for several silent seconds.

“Jim?”

“Why does it take two days? This is a recall and we’re not paying for it so they are probably putting paying customers before us.”

Jim can't imagine, can not fathom, why they (we, the dealer) had to have the goddamn RAV4 on the hoist for two days to put a seal on. 

He wants to - needs to - vent about car service. I say I don't know anything. They don’t tell me anything. I am out here, with you, away from the shop. I don’t know policy or procedure.

"They probably move cars through as efficiently as possible so that we do not get a back-up of cars.” I say. I forgot to tell him that Toyota pays the dealers something.

“Don’t tell me they’re taking up valuable hoist space with our car for two days.”

"He doesn’t know anything, Jim.” Judith says, “Leave it alone.”

Grunt.

"We’ll be going to Florida for a month with a couple we know that has been going for five years.” Judith says.

“That sounds nice. Warm. You’ll have folks that can show you around.” I say.

Jim just wants to keep on keep on keep on that goddamn seal on his RAV4.

Finally.

“Jim, shut up, he doesn't know anything. He really can't talk down about his employer. 

“Well it's not like he's a lifelong employee. He's going to find another job at some time."

“Jim, why don’t you talk about football or something?”

Silence.

He turns to me and says "How about those Packers last night?"

"Well," I say, "I don't know much about that actually either."

"Jude, oh my God, we got a communist for a shuttle driver."

Well, I told him the 6 point win over the Falcons the night before. I don’t recall if I actually said “So what?” or not, but it was on my breath. 

Fortunately, me and Judith and her chronically cantankerous old coot were just a couple minutes from the goal line. The crowd quieted down. We wondered about punting. We decided to take a time out and go to commercial.

Getting called a communist on the job? Another first for me.