At first, the decision to put the word “terrible” in the name of a business seems like a —yes—terrible idea, until you remember you’re in Vegas and ask yourself: What other word, really, should go there? For shouldn’t every business in Vegas have the word “terrible” in it? The Terrible Luxor. The Terrible Casino. The Terrible Riviera (or The Terriviera, which ain’t a bad choice). Somewhere in Vegas, there has to be a business called The Terrible Decision. Isn’t Las Vegas Spanish for “the terrible decision?” I don’t know what they sell at The Terrible Decision, but whatever it is, how about don’t buy it? (Outside a toothless guy told me I looked like Buddy Holly. It ain’t a trip to Vegas until some toothless guy tells me I look like Buddy Holly. First of all, I have way nicer teeth than Buddy Holly. Second of all, I didn’t tell him that he looked like a toothless guy on crack hanging out at a car wash. But he did.)
My car was washed here at the Terrible’s Car Wash. And not terribly. But it was rained and hailed on twenty minutes later. And that was terrible.
So Terrible’s a guy then? (I could look all this up, but I’ll be very honest: I don’t want to know. Hey, Internet: It’s fun to not know.) I love that a guy named Terrible owns not a pool hall or a cock fighting ring or a strip club. He owns a car wash. Why not a day care center?
“Who watches your son during the day?”
“Oh, I take him to Terrible’s. How about your son?”
“I take him to Awful’s. It’s over on Disappointing Street.”
I’m thinking of taking my clothes to Deplorable Dry Cleaners, my car to Reprehensible Repairs, and my pets to Shitty Shelters. I have complete trust in these companies. (I have no pets.)
You know, now that I think of it, I’d sooner hang out in a place called Terrible’s than a place called Intelligentsia.