Life can be so frustrating sometimes. My husband is trying to buy a used truck...you wouldn't think it would be difficult...you go to the dealership (where he works, by the way) and tell them you want a vehicle and this is how much money you would like to spend. In theory, this should be all that is necessary...but apparently at Lawrence Hall you get the special employee treatment. On Saturday, the salesman told Robert he had found him a truck; this morning he said all was good; this afternoon they sold the truck to a 'customer'. What is Robert, chopped liver? If you work there, you aren't a customer? You cannot begin to know how badly I want to go to Lawrence Hall and kick and scream and let them know how irritated I am. Instead, I will just sit on my couch and fume.