I took the car in today to get serviced and to have a "funny" noise checked out, which I figured would be pretty quick. Apparently I was part of some big psychic wave of people who decided that today would also be an ideal time to take their car to get serviced. They said it would take all day and that I could pick it up by five. But I had to be home by two because the pest control guy was coming to spray for ants (Every flipping summer we get ants. I guess it is because they need water. Asshole ants ). Even if I didn't have to be back by two, if you have ever tried to drive from the west side of LA to the east side of LA on a holiday weekend during rush hour, you know I am only half joking when I say that I would rather gnaw off my own arm. And not even my left one but my right arm, the one I use to stuff baked cheese poofs in my mouth.
Oh yeah, and I also need to study. There is that too. I am on a schedule, dammit.
I was fourteen miles away from my house, which might as well be 14 light years thanks to the way this city is laid out. So I call Leif and ask him if he can come please pick me up during lunch. He can't take a lunch break and he thinks because of the holiday weekend that traffic is going to be crap, which means it would take him an hour and a half round trip. He is right of course, but I pout anyway. So my options are to take the bus or wait until our car is ready and brave rush hour traffic traveling east on the 10 freeway.
It takes me two and a half hours to get home by bus.
I try to use this time to be productive and read my review book but I can't because I am either a) getting car sick or b) listening to the gentleman sitting next to me talk about all the summer movies he wants to see. Talking to this dude about all of his most anticipated summer blockbusters is the best part of the ride home. He is a likable sort of person. I think his name is Manuel. He really, really likes the trailer for some movie about spy cats and dogs and is really, really excited to see a movie called The Expendables.
Of course, while I am walking the three blocks to my house from the last bus stop I realize that I do not have my keys. Because they are with the car...14 miles in the opposite direction. But, I think, it should not be a problem since my landlord must be home for the pest control dude too. I get home, knock on her door. No answer.
So, I call Leif at work.
He shows up about twenty minutes later and as soon as he opens the gate our landlord pops her head out. She was home the whole time.
The pest control guy comes and says to me that he can't spray inside because I needed to clear out all my cupboards in the kitchen. Oh. That. I didn't do that. Oh well, he will be back next month and he sprayed outside so it shouldn't be a problem.
At least I don't have to walk the mile to the nearest coffee shop because I can't be in the house for three hours after he sprays inside. That is a plus.
The next great drummer and his friends are home. That is a negative.
At 3:00 the mechanic calls. The car is ready early. They couldn't get the car to make the funny noise when the engine turns on but they did take a look. They suggest trying to record the funny noise next time. Oh yeah, and they did change the oil. That will be 123 dollars please.
If there were rocks over here, I would totally be kicking them right now.
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