Today's featured shit

Why don’t Congressmen like bookmarks?

They prefer their pages to be bent over.

As you’ll recall, I had an appointment on the 7th. They found $1,300 of things to fix, and I was like, “I need to think about it.” I was pretty sure I had a warranty for it, but they said I did not. They then said that because I had two warranties (original and extended) that the extended one would not show up in their computer.

To work around this, they have to talk to a live person, but those only exist during the week. So this Friday at 11 I am taking my Saturn back home, to Saturn of Fremont, where they will give me a rental. I’ll go back on Saturday to pick it up, and other than the 80 miles of driving, everything will work out.

Back on the 7th, I told the guy at Saturn of Stevens Creek that I would be in Orlando but that he could call me and tell me about this warranty business. He said he would call on Wednesday because he was off the 8th-10th. Nothing. Not that I am surprised. This is the same person who held my car in July seven hours for an oil change before I realized I needed to be more proactive and call him back. This is the same guy who held my car for five hours on the 7th before I remembered that I still needed to be more proactive and call him back. Both times the cars had been ready for hours. And don’t get me started on putting the month and year on the next-oil-change sticker. Been there. Done that.

So fuck them. Fuck Saturn of Stevens Creek in the asshole with a big rubber dick. I don’t care whether they are two miles from my house. I don’t care whether their most-common excuse is that their service is so good that people drive from all over the Bay Area to get serviced by them. I’m going back to where I was appreciated (no, not Saturn of Reno, who are the best).

I might as well move back to the East Bay. Someone stop me!

We lost 5-1 yesterday. We actually had a legitimate rotation in terms of bench and substituting and all that. I discovered three things. I need to go after loose balls more quickly, I need to go after people before they get the ball (not after), and I need to be ready as soon as I step into the rink. Overall, I played OK. I was only a minus-1.

After the game, I played softball and went 1-for-2 as a designated player. They didn’t really need me after all, but because I was already there, they let me hit. My hit was a swinging bunt A-Rod single — it went about three feet. It didn’t even make it to the infield grass, but I beat it out.

I moved to second on a single. The next batter flied out. The next batter hit one into shallow left. The shortstop made a great catch, and I was hung out to dry. Inning over.

I led off another inning, as well. The most important thing about softball is not to let go of the bat until after you swing. Otherwise your departing hand will sting. You would think I would remember this because it rhymes, but no. I hit a comebacker that I almost beat out. Where this speed is when I play hockey is beyond me. That led the team to a 1-2-3 inning, and we ended up losing 15-3. The other team has good defenders at every position.

Today I am sore, which is good, but settling back into a post-East Coast groove isn’t appearing to be easy. My roommate is drinking again, which is bad if you’re an alcoholic. It never has a measurable direct effect on me, but you sort of wonder what comes next. Her lover was over last night, and sometime in the middle of the night she took his keys and moved his car somewhere. I know that sounds strange, but it’s the only logic that’s there. His keys were there when I got home, and they were gone when I woke up, along with his SUV. Honestly, I hate that he blocks the driveway, so part of me was really amused by this, plus he’s a real jerk anyway. (But a demon in the sack, I hear [literally, sometimes] so she has my empathy, but not my sympathy.)

I don’t know what the deal is with all that. I can easily just pretend it doesn’t exist, because honestly it’s none of my business and has not yet had any measurable effect on my life. She is smart enough to keep me out of it. I just wonder if all the things that have happened this year (disenfranchised with my job, car paid off, multiple excuses to move) should somehow be put together to come to a conclusion.

After yesterday’s hockey game, I was loading my shit into my car, when this woman, whose spouse obviously had bought her this SUV, because she had no clue how to maneuver one in a parking lot (not to mention being about 5’1″) ran over my stick. Twice! I don’t know whether it was the 24 hours in New York or the fact that I saw 8 Mile on the plane home, but I really tore into her. This is me talking here! How often does that shit happen? It doesn’t. I know. You’re concerned about the stick. It’s fine. She ran over the handle, which is a best-case scenario.

Coincidentally I am in the office four days this week (Expense report today for Orlando, bagels tomorrow, volleyball Wednesday and a meeting Thursday).

I’m eight weeks from Vegas now. I think I will just back into that trip, enroll in dealer school and maybe, just maybe, not come back.

Now would be the perfect time to meet someone new. It would be downright funny.

That’s enough angst for October. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.