Sherman’s Driving Pleasure“Yes, Mr. Sherman, your new car will be ready for you to pick up this Monday. I am sorry for the delay.”
The manager at the prestigious Sydney Mercedes Benz car dealership was all apologies for the unforeseen postponement of delivery.
“We received the car from abroad only two days ago, but our local mechanics are still working on the final extras that you have requested.”
Sherman gave the car dealer a mouthful of abuse and hung up. He was a high-flying business advisor who always had to have the best. He had travelled back to his homeland, Germany, to personally order his new Mercedes Benz and had made himself a first class pest while choosing every optional extra for the car. The poor German mechanics didn’t know what to make of his aggressive and arrogant demeanor.
But Sherman was accustomed to getting his way with no regard for others. He lived in a multimillion-dollar home, had a plastic wife who put up with his self-importance and had produced two snotty-nosed spoiled brats as kids. He was rude to his neighbours and never once thought of tipping the smiling Sunday paper boy. Sherman was forever a nasty piece of work.
To keep Sherman at bay, the mechanics at the Sydney Mercedes dealership had to work right through the weekend to fine tune the car. Sherman had ordered every superfluous gadget possible for his new luxury vehicle. He had the money, so why not?
The following Monday, Sherman drove his new Mercedes out of the showroom. He was proud as punch; one hundred and fifty thousand dollars well spent. The deep midnight blue metallic paintwork glistened in the sun and the motor roared like a Sumatran tiger. Sherman was on top of the world.
As he neared home, Sherman noticed a distinct rattle somewhere in the car. He turned the six-speaker stereo down low and the rattle now seemed deafening.
“Bloody German engineering!” he spat. “We could never win a war and now we can’t even make a decent car.” He spun the Merc around and floored it back to the dealer.
The poor car dealer didn’t know what hit him when Sherman stormed into the showroom. “Tighten every nut and bolt on this car you peanuts!” he ordered. “I paid top dollar for this new ride.” The mechanics got to work as ordered.
The next day, the car still had the annoying rattle. Sherman returned to the dealer and was now ropable. “Take the bloody thing apart and find the fault!”
His ill attitude was not welcomed but again the mechanics worked into the night to find the nemesis.
Two days later, Sherman received a phone call from the Mercedes dealer. “You better get over here and check this out Mr. Sherman. I think we found the fault.”
When Sherman walked into the showroom with his pretentious wife it seemed every employee in the dealership was there to greet him. “This is your problem right here Mr. Sherman.” The dealer offered. He was holding a small tin can suspended by a piece of string. ”We found it tied inside the passenger door lining.”
Sherman was offered a screwdriver by one of the mechanics and encouraged to open the tin.
“Please, be my guest Mr. Sherman.”
An outburst of profane language broke the suspense as Sherman’s nemesis was finally revealed. Inside the small tin were a number of rocks, a few sinkers and a couple of German coins. Annoying in anyone’s language. As Sherman threw the contents to the showroom floor, a piece of folded paper poked its head out of the tin.
He grabbed at the paper as veins popped out of his head. Written on a Mercedes letterhead all the way from the mother country was scrawled a short message in pencil: “So you finally found the rattle you rich, ungrateful bastard!”
Totally humiliated, Sherman screwed up the piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket.
It was a pretty low act by the mechanics back in Germany, but the Sydney dealership manager smiled. He realised the trick had been played out on the perfect recipient.
“Happy motoring Mr. Sherman.”
It was the best he could offer as Sherman skulked out of the dealership a mortified man.