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It was a gray dreary day in November.
The only thing I had to do was go vote.
And so my journey began.
Upon cranking my car I realized that *someone* had left the interior light on.
So my battery was dead.
"No problem," I thought.
"I'll just see if my coworker, Sarah, can pick me up."
I called Sarah.
That bitch screened my call!
I know she's there.
I call again.
Then I leave her a message.
"Sarah, answer the fucking phone you whore!
I need a damn ride."
Fifteen minutes later she texts me back.
"Go to hell," it says.
And that's when I knew she would be my wife.
I mean, any girl who won't put up with my shit and then throws it back at me?
Plus, she just broke up with this douche of a boyfriend she's been dating for eight months.
I still didn't have a ride, so I made a reservation with Uber.
It's really a shitty service.
I mean, just cause I live in rural Indiana, shouldn't I be able to get a ride too?
They never show up on time.
So I yelled down the street at the top of my lungs.
"Can anyone give me a ride?"
And this old Amish dude cracks his whip, stops his buggy, and pulls over.
He jumped out of his buggy and SPLASH!
A massive mud puddle.
I have never in my life seen an Amish guy curse that much.
I had to act quick—maybe save the day and get a ride!
So I turned on my sprinkler.
I soaked the crap out of that dude.
You'd think he would be a little more gracious for me cleaning up that mess.
But not this time.
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