Fixing "Chuck Norris"

Who else can say that they had to miss an entire day of school for wheelchair repairs?  That's how I spent my day today.  It was an uneventful day because I had no choice but to sit and wait for the repair guy.  I was unsure if he was even coming because the secretary said that the schedule was full.  To be honest, getting your wheelchair fixed is much like taking your car in.  As I mentioned above, I had to wait the majority of the day for him to decide whether he could fit me in, and then when he got here it was an abundance of awkward conversation; such as "oh, hold on let me put on my Boston Strangler gloves, but don't worry I only do that on the weekends."  It's funny because the repair guy seemed to think he was seriously a comedian.  It's like they think this conversation will make the experience goes smoother, when in fact they're making it worse.  Then he felt the need to walk me through the process and told me everything that he was doing.  I actually appreciate that part, because I learn how to properly describe the issue the next time my chair breaks; but of course he continued making "funny" jabs at how I was so destructive to my wheelchair.  After I got through all the awkward conversation, he starts to fix my chair (which I call Chuck Norris because it's awesome) and he finishes up. Then he pets my cat for 5 minutes, and is on his way! The one issue I've had with Chuck, is that it seems they took many shortcuts in the manufacturing process. For example, using super glue to hold the buttons in place and being lazy when making sure screws were on tight. I thought no one was supposed to "fuck with Chuck," but someone clearly did!

This message was Chuck Norris approved,

Karli