The Used People Lot

Faint car never won fair lady!... Make your car proud of you!... Grinning Gregory helps used people!
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?