Posted by Christopher Johnson | Thursday, June 30th, 2011 | Uncategorized | 37 Comments
The reason why posting’s been a bit light is that my last two days have been truck days. My plates were due to literally run out, well, today and there was a whole lot wrong with my 2001 Ford Ranger.
And since I subscribe to the “put off until tomorrow what you can do today” philosophy(and since I’ve been taking the week off), I put off until tomorrow what I could have done today.
I needed two front tires and the “Check Engine” light’s been on for a while so yesterday, I took it to a place that’s not too far from where I live, told them what I needed, walked home and waited. And waited.
And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.
I finally called them about 4:30 or so to see what was what. I’m not a mechanic or anything, far from it, but from what little I understood, the reason that it took so long was that their analysis doohickey was telling them one thing and everything they checked was telling them something entirely different.
So the guy tells me that he’ll reset the thing but I should bring it back if it comes on again. About 6:00, I walked back over to pick the Ranger up. $400 or so, all told. Ah well, I thought, being out of debt was nice while it lasted.
State inspections were this morning so I took the Ranger over to a dealership I always take it to. Got there about 10:45, somewhere in there. I figured I’d sit there for an hour or two, ace both inspections and be well on my way in plenty of time.
The guy calls me over and gives me the news. Not only is there a whole bunch else wrong with it, another $430 worth, but it’s going to take a good chunk of the afternoon to bring everything up to speed.
Good Stoic that I am, I figured that there was no point in bitching about it. Anyway, I had a book with me, Volume 1 of Allan Nevins’ Ordeal of the Union(the 4-volume set is out of print but highly recommended if you can find it used). And for a couple of hours, there was this mom whose 10-month-old kept giggling at me.
It really didn’t seem all that long but about 3:45, they called me over and I put another $430 on the VISA. I leave by the front of the dealership, look around and try to figure out where they’d parked the thing.
There it is, I noticed. Unfortunately, whilst noticing it, I thought the front step was wider than it turned out to be, took a short step into thin air and…well…”Down goes Johnson!! Down goes Johnson!! Down goes Johnson!!”
A salesperson saw my face plant, ran outside and asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine. Aside from a small cut on my left pinky and a boo-boo on my right knee, I was way more embarrassed than hurt.
Long story short, I get into the truck, head down Manchester Road toward Big Bend Boulevard and made it to the DMV with about an hour to spare. Fifteen, twenty minutes in line and I’m legal for the next two years.
So how did your days go?