PittsburghThoughts

Today was a funny, twisted, fucked up day. It was the kind of day that, somehow, everyone seemed to know that I went off my Zoloft and they had decided to test me. It started this morning or rather it didn't start this morning, my daughter's car that is, the one that's hers in name only. She took another vehicle and left me with the problem.

 

I called AAA before 9:00 AM and they dispatched a tow truck. All I had to do was to figure out who I wanted to make the next donation to, call them and tell them to get ready, the car is on it's way. I opted for the same place that I had recently forked over $2000.00 to, no more than 2-3 weeks ago. Silly me thinking I'd get the A+ treatment simply because I was a fabulous customer. They weren't open yet. A slight panicky feeling was rapidly approaching. My second choice wasn't open yet. Be patient, be patient I told myself, it's almost 9:00 and everything opens at 9:OO.

 

They did and I was set, they said no problem, that they weren't very busy today. I laughed in the face of almost being made to look like an ass. I laughed into its ass. Its ass was in my face and I was laughing. The tow truck driver came, he hitched up his truck and I told him I'd meet him at the car dealer's service department. 

 

I did, the mileage didn't go over the free allotted mileage so there wasn't any charge at all. I talked to the service desk (man/kid) and drove home, almost. I decided to stop at one of my favorite second hand stores on the way home, The Salvation Army, laugh if you must but my mother was a sales lady for the salvation army for over 20 years. I was born to shop there. I remember, as a small child, Christ-like and everything, going to Christmas dinners there. The men that worked there also lived there, they were on a Salvation Army inspired prolonged self improvements plan and I even grew to know and like a few of them. But that's another story for another blog. or maybe several stories, I'll get back to you.

 

The first thing I had to do when I arrived at The Salvation Army was to seek some salvation myself and go to the bathroom. At the precise moment I grabbed the men's room key, another fellow was biding his sweetheart farewell. I instinctively knew he was also headed to the men's room. I was walking so close to him we could have been holding hands but truthfully, he wasn't my type. He seemed to be the kind that a lot of men around here have allowed themselves to become, tough guys, men so macho that they sweat testosterone. He was probably headed to the men's room to rid himself of the overflow. We arrived at the door together. I opened the door, holding it ajar, I ask if he wanted to go first, although, what I had to do in there was gaining uregency. He looked dumbfounded and dumb at the same time. He mumbled something about two stalls. I said, "No, there was a commode and that was it."

 

Then, I did the unforgivable, I said, "I have to shit, if you just have to piss you can go first." He looked at me with pity in his eyes, the contemptible kind, the kind that makes you kill the crippled creature rather than taking it to the Vet's. His disgust with me was immeasurable, he turned and walked away. I stood on the threshold of The Salvation Army men's room, watching him in his superiority and  splendor walk away. I yelled, "I was trying to be courteous to you ASSHOLE!" When I was finished I was glad and slightly proud that he and his toothless girlfriend had left the store. I was relieved that I could roam the aisles once again oblivious to a piano wire attack from behind. I bought an interesting toy for my grandson and drove home.

 

Once home I returned to my current project lying in wait for me in my basement. I had to figure out why the power supply for my rechargeable drill crapped out. Before I could trouble shoot the circuit I had to fix my meter. I replaced the meter's fuse and proceeded. A fuse had also blown in the charger. Hmmm, must be blow a fuse day in heaven. I'll pick up fuses later when I go out.

 

Nancy, my wife had taken our grandson Tre out and Gina had taken my van to work. I was feeling mean and sick I decided to sleep it off after doing the minimum amount of house work that I could get away with. My foot is still sore, swollen and inflamed. I wanted to call someone and ask what's with all this shit that been happening to me. I ran to my second refuge instead, second only to the sacred napping places: the couch and the leather chair that I love so much, the Internet.

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I had some ebay business pending and wrote emails reassuring the customers that their orders were shipped the previous day. I'm not knocking them dead on ebay yet but a few bucks here and a few bucks there and everywhere a buck buck. I checked the tuba section. The frenzy to purchase used ebay tubas hadn't started yet, there was still a day or two to go. I searched for one of Duane's (my son) classmates on google, he went into his father's business and plays the tuba for the River City Brass Band here in Pittsburgh, I called and left a message. Finally the nap.

 

I was awakened by the phone, it was the car dealer, they couldn't get in the car. Huh? The key didn't work, the door key. I said ok, toke note of the time and called my wife to ask if she knew where the spare set was. She called Gina and then called me back, it was around 2:30 - 3:00. "Gina said,' Her door key is on the key ring I gave the dealer and it's been working fine.'" I called the dealer, no answer. I called and called and called. Finally I got through to "Nick," the guy I had been dealing with. I told him the bad news. He said, "No way." I said, "Way" It went on along those lines for a while and then he said he'd look and try the key again. Dead air. Gina came home and in the middle of the explanation to her, Nick came back on the phone. He said they slim jimmed the door and were in. He said something about looking at the lock and figuring why it didn't work. I said, "Don't worry about the lock! Fix the damn car so we can pick it up! You said it would be done today, you're only open until 5:00 and it almost 4:00 now!" He accused me of yelling at him.  

 

The tow truck driver was the culprit that locked the door. Nick suggested I call triple A and yell at them. The bathroom guy was nothing, now I really did want to kill. He said, "I have the parts and I might be able to fix it before 5:00." I said, "If I knew you guys weren't going to even try to start before 3:00 I would never have taken it to you." I reminded him that I had, 2 or 3 weeks ago, just spent $2000.00 bucks there. He then dropped the bombshell that made everything fall into place. He said he was changing the ignition switch mechanism and lock assembly on the steering column. So when he told me he would look at the lock, he meant the ignition switch lock, not the door lock.

 

He said to leave soon and be here by 5:00 so he wouldn't have to wait around for me when it was his time to go home. My daughter and I left. He showed me a key machine and said there is a chip in the key. The machine should be able to read the key and give him the code for the blank, one of 15 different blanks so he can cut the key, BUT, our key was damaged and the machine couldn't read the code and therefor couldn't tell him what blank to cut. He could do it manually program each one into the machine and see if it was the right one but each key takes 4 minutes for the computer to spit out the information. So that's an hour just tryint to find the blank, then I remembered. Yesterday Gina gave me her key and said look at this, it was bent. It was bend badly, almost 45 degrees bent, I put it in my vise and force it into trueness and also destroyed the chip.

 

"Are you sure the steering column components are bad," I ask. He was certain, although I didn't think they were, he was the expert, probably at ballooning the bill, but I had all the fight ground out of me by then. "OK." I said, "Monday?" "Yes, Monday," he said. I told him I had felt offended that he accused me of yelling at him, I said, "If you thought that was yelling at you then you've never been properly yelled at." He conceded that he was a little harsh himself but HE didn't like my use of the word kid when describing what I thought he was. "I've got a college education." Then he said he'd try to knock as much off the bill as he could. I thanked him and like two generations of dipshits frustrated at one another we reconciled and bid one another ado.

 

We came home and ate, Later that evening, Nancy and I went out, refreshed our vows and bought fuses at Radio Shack. I told her I always wanted to open a combination motel / electronics store and call it Radio Shack Up. Maybe someday, I will.     Gene