The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Wednesday, May 22, 2002

Notes from the passenger seat of a Caddilac

“So wheres we going?” said the driver, a black man in his 50s perhaps, maybe a bit older. It was hard to tell.

“Turn right here. I live on Boca Rio and 8th,” I said. I was curious as to how he would drive the car—his right leg didn't seem to be in any shape for driving.

“You'se going to have to tell me how to get there,” he said, making the turn, left foot switching between break and gas. “I'm from Hollywood.”

“Hollywood? That's some commute.”

“Yes it is,” he said. “I've worked for the owner now for seventeen years. Used to work at the shop in Hollywood. Lived not mo' than five minutes away.” Right leg crammed up against the center hump in the car, left foot managing the pedals.

“Turn left here,” I said.

He did. “I was three of us; me, the owner and his brother.” He leaned over to me. “You'se know about black sheep in the family, right?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking of my own family, with its fair share of gray and black sheep. “Turn right; that's 8th.”

Turn navigated. “It was the brother. Ruined the shop he did.”

“Oh that's horrible.”

“Yup. So the owner, he tells me, ‘Arty,’ he says, ‘Arty, don't worry about nothin'. I got ya covered,’ And so I work for him here.”

“Nice boss,” I said.

“Yup. The other fellers, my manager, they may give me shit, but not the owner. Turn at the light?”

“No, continue straight,” I said.

“But they shouldn't give me shit, I work for the owner! Seventeen years I've worked for him. Ain't never given me shit.” We drove in silence for a few moments. “What's happened to yo car?”

“Battery, alternator, serpentine belt, don't know. It's power everything and the electrical system was acting quite funny. Trying to drive it the car just died on me,” I said. “Turn left here.”

“Shit, that happened to me on the way back from Georgia,” he said. “Wife and I went up to Georgia, and on the way back the car died on us.”

“Turn right here,” I said. “Then left. I'm at the back.”

“In the middle of nowhere and the car done died on me.” He then stopped, pulled a map out and started looking. He then mentioned a place. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Sorry, can't say I've heard of the place.” He mentions another place. This time it's one of the exits on the Florida Turnpike. “Yes, I've heard of that.”

“That's where the car done died. Right on the Turnpike. Towtruck comes out, drives me half an hour back north, and I have to pay for two damn vehicles!”

“Jesus!”

“Amen!”

“Yea, I lost a car in Georgia a few years ago.”

“No kiddin'?”

“Nope. Transmission seized up tight. Wouldn't even move in neutral.”

“Good Lord. Did you go back for it?”

“Nope. Would have cost two thousand to get it fixed, so I opted to get a used car instead.”

“Shit!”

“Thank you for the ride,” I said. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“You know when you car will be ready?”

“Most likely tomarrow,” I said. “I guess I'll see you then.” I got out of the car.

“Okay. Nice talkin' with you.”

“Thanks again,” I said and closed the door. He drove off.


You know, I should check these things …

It's not that the mechanics I dropped the car off with were bad or anything, but I still had this nagging voice in the back of my head that soemthing was wrong and I should have had the car towed to the dealership.

I check, and lo, what do I find?

That I had not the 36,000 mile/36 month warranty (which would put the car just outside the warranty period), but instead a 60,000 mile/72 month warranty, of which is still in effect.

Boy, am I stupid.

So it's call up the mechanic and good, they haven't started yet, so I can have the car towed to the dealership. The dealership can accept the car and AAA can tow the car, again, no problem, and I don't have to be there since it's from a repair center to a repair center. So I'm set.

Boy, am I stupid.

Or loosing my memory.

Obligatory Picture

[It's the most wonderful time of the year!]

Obligatory Contact Info

Obligatory Feeds

Obligatory Links

Obligatory Miscellaneous

You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go ahead, I won't bite. I promise.

The dates are the permanent links to that day's entries (or entry, if there is only one entry). The titles are the permanent links to that entry only. The format for the links are simple: Start with the base link for this site: http://boston.conman.org/, then add the date you are interested in, say 2000/08/01, so that would make the final URL:

http://boston.conman.org/2000/08/01

You can also specify the entire month by leaving off the day portion. You can even select an arbitrary portion of time.

You may also note subtle shading of the links and that's intentional: the “closer” the link is (relative to the page) the “brighter” it appears. It's an experiment in using color shading to denote the distance a link is from here. If you don't notice it, don't worry; it's not all that important.

It is assumed that every brand name, slogan, corporate name, symbol, design element, et cetera mentioned in these pages is a protected and/or trademarked entity, the sole property of its owner(s), and acknowledgement of this status is implied.

Copyright © 1999-2021 by Sean Conner. All Rights Reserved.