![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It's been a long, expensive morning. I had an 8:30 appointment to get the oil changed in my car. I also need to get it inspected (overdue--oops) but my guy doesn't do inspections. Oh, well, I'll get the oil change and then go. Not so fast, there, missy. Seems that I need new wiper blades and new tires on at least the front two tires before it'll pass. Oh, and I need an alignment, too. Since Steve doesn't do tires I know it isn't just a scam, but I still have to get it done. Up the street to the tire place. I didn't think to check the time when I left Steve's, but the oil change was fairly quick. Not so the tires. Sigh.
I did take a book, but it turns out to be by the same author as the book I just abandoned out of disgust. (An un-funny rip-off of one of my favorite series ever.) Steve had good magazines, including the most up-to-date in a good variety of genres, but not so the tire place. Nope, nothing there but sports and hunting-type outdoor mags. Do they think only good-ole-boys buy tires? Okay, there was one-- count 'em, ONE-- Good Housekeeping. Geez. I went back to the bad mysetery book. At 11:00 I was set-upon by a smarmy loudmouth who decided that I really needed to know the entire plot of the latest Clive Cussler he had read-- I'm betting this author is quite the hit with conspiracy buffs. Geez, President Lincoln tied to the smokestack of a ship going down the Potomac, and replaced by an actor who was then killed at the Ford Theater? Poison poured into the ocean to cause "red algae" (as the man called it)? "It makes you think," the smarmy one intones with a meaningful nod. "If you like history and are into mysteries." I did my best to not look like I was interested in history, which wasn't too much of a stretch, especially right then. I don't even recall what he said about the third plot he kept telling me was intertwined; "Cussler always has three stories in his books." I guess my brain was just awash in red algae. I would have given my eye teeth for an iPod right then. It would have been so cranked up.
I finally threw myself on the mercy of the clerk, and bless her heart, a mere half hour later the car was done and I was away from the crazy "history" man. Not that it had anything to do with history, mind you.
I still need to get the wipers, but that's pretty minor, all things considered.
I have my first class of the semester tonight. It's at State, and I think I might walk. Class will be out before it gets dark, at least for a few more weeks, I think. I've heard the class might move, which would mean walking isn't in the picture. Oh, well.
I took a wild hair and added fresh peach chunks to my bean/corn/salsa salad for lunch and it was really good. Who knew? Hell, what on earth made me think of it? Glad I did, though.
I did take a book, but it turns out to be by the same author as the book I just abandoned out of disgust. (An un-funny rip-off of one of my favorite series ever.) Steve had good magazines, including the most up-to-date in a good variety of genres, but not so the tire place. Nope, nothing there but sports and hunting-type outdoor mags. Do they think only good-ole-boys buy tires? Okay, there was one-- count 'em, ONE-- Good Housekeeping. Geez. I went back to the bad mysetery book. At 11:00 I was set-upon by a smarmy loudmouth who decided that I really needed to know the entire plot of the latest Clive Cussler he had read-- I'm betting this author is quite the hit with conspiracy buffs. Geez, President Lincoln tied to the smokestack of a ship going down the Potomac, and replaced by an actor who was then killed at the Ford Theater? Poison poured into the ocean to cause "red algae" (as the man called it)? "It makes you think," the smarmy one intones with a meaningful nod. "If you like history and are into mysteries." I did my best to not look like I was interested in history, which wasn't too much of a stretch, especially right then. I don't even recall what he said about the third plot he kept telling me was intertwined; "Cussler always has three stories in his books." I guess my brain was just awash in red algae. I would have given my eye teeth for an iPod right then. It would have been so cranked up.
I finally threw myself on the mercy of the clerk, and bless her heart, a mere half hour later the car was done and I was away from the crazy "history" man. Not that it had anything to do with history, mind you.
I still need to get the wipers, but that's pretty minor, all things considered.
I have my first class of the semester tonight. It's at State, and I think I might walk. Class will be out before it gets dark, at least for a few more weeks, I think. I've heard the class might move, which would mean walking isn't in the picture. Oh, well.
I took a wild hair and added fresh peach chunks to my bean/corn/salsa salad for lunch and it was really good. Who knew? Hell, what on earth made me think of it? Glad I did, though.
