After rolling around the iron-clad communities of Monterey and then taking a think on Gin's reflections ~ i was reminded of how that there power corrupts absolutely. you dig?
- - -
VB's got this little car that hadn't been runnin' since Clinton got busted for dry-cleaning ~ and she wanted me to get it up and lookin' nice to sell (... so she can afford all the doo-dads for her Koner, I think). So, I jumped it up and saw that the gas gauge was runnin' zero and dropped it down her Alpine-driveway to head over to the guzzler-station.
A couple miles away, I see this Deutscher blinky-blink light flash on-off on the dashy ... so, i reckon it's best to take a look at the levels to make sure nothins gonna explode (not sure how much a seized up Golf-ie goes for these days ... but, i don't think it would cover a set a disko's). So, i pulled into the Corralitos Sausage Factory and sat there for a minute debating whether I should shut the engine down or not.
Now, I knew the battery was more n' likely to shit out on me ... but, i figured this being SCruz n' all, there was bound to be somebody willin' to jump the bugger up to runnin' again. So, I popped off the ignition and popped up the hoody to check the gauges. The oil was low, but not emergency - and the coolant levels were the same. The engine had been runnin' fine on the temp needle for half n' hour ... so, i figured it was a bum-light or that i just needed to add a bit o' fluids to make it german-specific happy. Either way ~ it was a go if I could get that sucker started again.
Oh well, let's ask some folks for a jump.
"hey ... whitey mcRichguy, can you spare a minute to jump this lil' machine?"- - -
"uh, how 'bout you blondie mcBottle nose?"
hell no, get away from me, hippie.
"any chance for a light, farmer Jonah?"
eat shit, fagboy.
yeah, that makes me happy. I finally cracked when one guy smiled at me with some inner-sick satisfaction with the power that he had to say 'no.' It was some weird sense of thrill that oozed out of his sideways smile when he gave me the one-word negative shaped like a middle finger out of his pie-hole. He enjoyed it like a sweet bit a candy.
whatever, man. Somebody's burnin karma here, either you or me. whatever.
So, it was the long-walk home to grab Sputnik and jump the fuker myself.