The two greatest words for impulsive gamblers of Irish descent who might possibly have lost an entire day last weekend? FREE DRINKS. I'd be bummed about losing all my money in Biloxi, though it probably just covered what would have been a 3-day bar tab. Perspective, you know.
I was a tad pissed in May when I had to buy new tires for my car that had only 25,000 miles, but paid a little extra for the extended warranty with a lifetime of balance and rotations because they gave me an instant line of credit (which should probably be the tagline to my life). This has never worked out in the past since I always forget to take autos in for maintenance, but, hey, I'll play your game.
One of my coworkers mentioned that I had a flat tire last week, so I high-tailed it to the Firestone before closing, to be informed that the culprit was TWO nails. I made an appointment to come back today to get the tires rotated (plus, I'm naturally suspicious of scheming, hoodwinking, greedy mechanics - I wanted to make sure they had repaired the nail holes adequately).
Imagine my surprise: a third nail in the sidewall of a second tire. How the hell am I driving sideways over nail-infested terrain with my car? Alas, it didn't matter: they replaced the tire, since it couldn't be repaired, and I had to pay nothing. Nada. Zilch. Nyet. Oooompah!