The Used People Lot BY IRVING FANG _Faint car never won fair lady!... Make_ your _car proud of you!... Grinning Gregory helps used people!_ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, August 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] It's had it. Finished. Done. My wonderful red Thunderflash, I thought to myself, isn't worth the electricity to atomize it to Kingdom Come. Ever since that drunk in his two-seat Charioteer plowed into the rear end with such force that even my radar repellant couldn't stop it, my Thunderflash had been out of kilter. The specialists my garage recommended worked over it for two days, but couldn't get it to running the way it did new. And what was I supposed to do for an automobile now? I had signed the customary 40-year pact for half my salary to pay for it. That meant I would still be shelling out by 2117. Weeping over it wasn't going to do any good. It was stuck on the fifth level expressway and that was that. I levered myself out (at least the ejector still worked) then got behind the car and gave it a good old-fashioned push to get it on an off-ramp, out of the stream of traffic. After I parked I remembered I was heading for a date with Jenny. I checked my wallet. No, not enough for a taxi there. I would just have to phone her to cancel the date. Reluctantly I pushed the tip of my tongue against my tooth telephone. "Operator," said the operator. "Poplar 3104, please." "Thank you. One moment. I'll ache it for you." She dialed the number of the tooth telephone in Jenny's mouth, so the two fine wires sent gentle electric currents into the nerve. On the third ache Jenny clicked the receiver open with the tip of her tongue. "Hello?" "Jenny, this is Arnold. I won't be able to come over this evening." "But we had a date," Jenny said in a petulant voice. "I know, but my car broke down." "Again?" "Yes, honey." "Why don't you do something about it?" Jenny complained. "But baby, what can I do? I've been to the garage. I've been to the specialists. I'm so broke on account of these repair bills I've been living on macaroni concentrate for the last couple of weeks." Jenny, my beautiful sweetheart, was distinctly unhappy. "Don't come to me with your troubles," she replied. "In fact, you don't have to come to me at all until you can come like a gentleman." "Aw, listen just a minute, Jenny," I started to plead. But it was too late. Jenny had clicked off. A fine thermokettle of fish! A month ago I had a shiny lifetime car and was romancing the best looking girl in town. Then one drunk comes along and my car is next to useless and my girl is mad at me.