Tag: automobile

Move bitch! Get out the way!

Posted on by nolageek

I have to vent. I was riding to work today when a car pulls into the far right lane (with me) and stops about a block in front of me to let the passengers out (I think they were being dropped off at school.) Two girls get out on the passenger side, one gets out the driver’s side. The two passenger side girls walk and stand in between two parked cars and wait for their friend. Their friend walks around the back of the car looks at me and stops behind the passenger side taillight. Leaving me about 3 feet of space on the side of the car.

“Ok” I think as I approach, “She’s waiting for me to pass.”

I drop speed and go between their car and the parked cars… just as she finds her cell phone in her purse and steps right in front of me.

I had about a nanosecond to brake so I wound up careening off of her as I swerve and body slide across the side of the parked car. (No damage to the car, I checked.)

Looking back I know I should have just stopped and waited for them… and I would have if she hadn’t made eye contact and looked like she didn’t see me.

The thing that pissed me off was that she didn’t even look up at me the entire time. Not once. Not after I sucked it up and appologized. Not even afterwards when I said “Some sort of acknowledgement would be nice.” Just nothing!

I get that all the time. People crossing the corner just as I get in the middle of the cross street and am headed straight for them. I mean, I can brake in time, but still… I am travelling at 15-20mph – you’d think they’d say to themselves “if I start walking now, I’m going to be in that guy’s way. Maybe I’ll wait 10 seconds… or maybe I’ll walk fast.”

I see that “I’m too cool to pay attention to my surroundings” look a lot.

Update on the car situation

Posted on by nolageek

I’m going on 2 months without a car and I still don’t mind.

I’m trying hard to not be the guy without a car that only calls his friends when he needs a ride, so I try to make a point of offering to bus it around or when asking for a ride to make sure is 1) not out their way and 2) one way only. I don’t mind since part of the reason I wanted to get rid of my car was to force myself to walk more. $deity knows I need it! :)

I am, however, thinking about getting a bike. I’m going to pass by Plan B today after work and see what they have. I also want to pass by The ARK and check out their darkroom setup. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten any prints done so I’m excited to smell those chemicals again. :)

Also: I’m looking to sell my car. If you’re interested in a 91 CRX that is in good shape, but needs some work… I’m trying to get $800 for it, but I’m very willing to negotiate. e-mail me!

Beggars Can’t Be Choosers (But Can Be Chosen)

Posted on by nolageek

During lunch I broke my long standing policy of not giving money to the miscellaneous human debris that walk among us in the CBD. After giving him my dollar (and after he scurried away to buy his Mad Dog) I thought about what made him so different:

  1. He had a non-offensive Odor | Although he didn’t smell bad, he smelled like something. I don’t know what that something was but something is better than bad. Something didn’t make me want to jump in front of a bus to escape it’s scent.
  2. He had a prop | He launched into the usual mumbo jumbo about how he’s not homeless, he’s just collecting money for charity name. This time he was collecting money for battered women. Lightly battered, like tempura. He had a brown box with a hole kicked in on top that had “battred woman” scrawled on the least filthy side with a sharpie. must have chopped her up to put her in the box and that displayed determination. A+ for effort.
  3. He stuttered | We stutterers must stick together. What can I say, he had me at h-h-he-he-he-hello.
  4. He opened with a joke | When he walked up to me, I was drinking the last of my diet coke and he said “Go’d Damn! Dat drinks gosta make you colder than al’ready is! which lowered my defenses and made me smile in his direction. This created eye contact which everyone knows is the homeless’ version of the Death Star’s tractor beam. If he had made me laugh I would have probably given him my car keys.

Beetlemania Part Two

Posted on by nolageek

Pictures of my Possible Bug.

It’s a 1975 Standard (not a Superbug.) Needs a few things in the interior as well as new floor pan. I think I know someone that can do the pan, but the rest might be up to me.

What do you think? I may actually be trading my CRX. I’ve talked smack about it in the past, but the CRX is actually in pretty good shape for a 12 year old car. The CV joints need fixing and the short in my system kind of sucks – but other than that it’s in good condition. Except for the few times I’ve left the lights on and the battery died, it’s never given me problems ouot of the ordinary. New brakes once, and the window went off track.. but it is a 12 year old car. I think I’m just over the CRX. I like it – it’s still one of my favorite cars – but I don’t feel like putting any money into a car I no longer feel “at one with” if that doesn’t sound too stupid. I almost feel like I was meant to have a bug. That sounds even more stupid, but true. lol

Oh well, it’s 4 am and I need to get some sleep. g’night.

New Plan

Posted on by nolageek

I’m a Macaluso, that means I can change plans midway, thus ruining the possibility of any individual plan being completed. See how that goes?

So anway, I’m back to my original plan of selling my CRX and getting a bug. Damnit. First step, clean the mo fo.

Oh my god. This was no simple, run of the mill messy car. This… could have been a road rules challenge. It took me almost an hour and it’s still dirty, just no longer messy. I know what you’re thinking:

Vincent, in your twisted mind, what’s the difference between ‘dirty’ and ‘messy’?

I’m glad you asked.

Dirty means I just have to vacumm the two years of dirt out of all the little crevices and edges and floors and dash and and and and.

Messy means there’s scraps of wood, rollerblades, books, boxes and ants in the car that are physically intruding on your personal space. Sometimes biting you.

During lunch I filled a giant industrial sized garbage bag full of broken down boxes (from when we moved in a year and a half ago), scrap wood (from when I added on to my CD shelf last year), books, books and more books that I was going to take to the Salvation Army last Christmas, and let’s not mention CDs that were in the wrong cases, and one of my rollerblades that I thought I had lost.

Uhg. There’s still a few ants.

But I tell you, it’s going to look nice when I’m done.

If I’m ever done.

If I don’t change my mind again.