[292] Screed City

[292]

07/01/204. Cushioned stool. Room 409. Room 2 Suites. Ballston Spa, New York.

An Epic Tale of Woe Part III

RIP Junior Mint.

Dont worry, Im fine. I was driving down the road outside of Troy, New York. Heading to Hoosic Valley when I looked down to grab something from the passenger seat. When I looked up, a very large truck carrying construction materials had suddenly decided to turn. I slammed on the brakes. Hot fresh brakes, mind you. I installed a brand new caliper on Saturday. I remember thinking, "I dont have enough space. The car isnt stopping fast enough. I am going to crash. This is not good." Then Junior Mint crashed into the back of the truck, which had one of those single wheel fork lifts attached that are part of the bed/trailer. The tire must have dampened the impact because it was like crashing into a mattress. That or Junior Mint really is, was, just a couch on wheels. It wasnt scary and it didnt seem particularly dangerous, just bad. The stuff on the passenger seat didnt even pile up on the floor. The computer I put in the back seat stayed where it was. The seatbelt barely engaged. And I swear the entire accident took two seconds to happen. I really did have a conversation with myself as it was happening. It wasnt some of that time is relative nonsense. Alas, however, Junior Mint is no more.

[insert crash photo]

I dont know. Maybe I willed it to happen? Maybe god was intervening? Maybe the car is salvageable? I dont know, I am not going to find out. I am going to cut bait as the bridesmaids say. Count my blessings and move on.

I cant say it wasnt kind of funny. I was ten minutes from the job site. I had been up since 5a. Had been driving for three hours. It didnt come out of nowhere, it wasnt a split second crash, but the fact that I was powerless to stop it I find interesting. The guy driving the truck seemed a little annoyed, but he was nice about it. I told him he could just take my info and get lost if he wanted. He said he had to stick around and get the police report because of his job. I said I was sorry. He asked me if I was okay. I said I was and then I told him I just put a new caliper in two days ago and the tires were brand new and I just got all for brakes worked on. He didnt care. I asked him what we do now, we should call the cops, right? He said he was doing that. I stood there a little befuddled. Accepting immediately the dire situation, but slowly coming to terms with how much of a pain in the ass I just caused myself. The cops coming to get involved. The car needing to be towed. Being stuck in the middle of nowhere with my luggage. And if I was smart, I would take everything of value out of the car. Which was not a very cheery prospect. Just yesterday I added a bag of tools to the trunk. The battery jumper. Some recording equipment. I was supposed to go to Vermont on Wednesday, so I was double packed with clothes. The only way I could have been more laden with shit was if I had left the two air conditioners in the back seat instead of installing them when I got back from Narrowsburg.

As I rummaged through the trunk and the back seat and the glove box, looking for anything worth keeping, I sent some texts and called Gs mom hoping she was in Troy for some reason. G is down south at the moment at a theater camp. I guess the idea was that maybe she could take some of the tertiary stuff back to their house and give me a ride to the train station. At this point I could only assume that I was not working until Wednesday like I had planned. I also called Scott because I wanted to talk to him about going to Florida next week. He informed me that D, who I was driving to Hoosic to meet and work with, was probably staying at the same hotel as I was and that he could probably get me too and from work. I was under the misimpression that D was local and would be coming from somewhere near. That the idea of him picking me up for work from the hotel was ludicrous. Once Scott told me he was not local, I thanked him, hung up and called D. He said he would come get me when everything was sorted out. That indeed we were staying at the same hotel. That he could really use my help this week. This was good news. I was certain I had just lost my car and three days of work at the same time. Now I was free of a car and I had somebody to drive me around for the next three days.

The cop showed up as I was stacking my pile of crap on the side of the road. It was so much crap. The cop was funny. He was a very young, very handsome, Arian-type? Nazi-youth-type? Not in demeanor, but visually. Light blonde hair, cropped tight and neat, tall, angular, a collection of unwritten and unspoken rules. He was nice. Asked me if I was okay. If the car could move. I told him I tried and it couldnt. He took the truck drivers documents and my documents, told me it would probably take about fifteen minutes, that he needed to call a tow truck and was I local. I told him where I was working. He said, Hoosic Elementary or Hoosic Valley Elementary? I said, I dont know, let me see. And then he walked back to his car unconcerned with the details. I found him charming, but he made me nervous. All cops make me nervous. And if you are somebody that thinks that only criminals are nervous around cops, I want to disabuse you of that notion right now. The primary purpose of the police is to protect the status quo, if you are not part of the status quo you are not being protected. Its like that old bridesmaid chestnut about how bears are more scared of you than you are of them. Except in reality, bears can rip your guts out with their fingernails. Who gives a fuck whos more scared. For all I knew I had a twelve pack of Bud light, a Koran and purple hair dye in my car that I had forgotten about. Next thing I know I am accused of WOKE and the handcuffs go on and soon I am getting sent to a Jorden Petersen re-education camp where stacked incels wearing soft collars are screaming at me: "Nobody ever complained about having too much freedom growing up!" And then when I retort, "Yeah, because there is no point complaining when there is nobody listening! You are reinforcing loneliness and creating a class of isolated victims who feel vindicated by your specious bullshit! These guys need hugs, not excuses for how awful they are!" They beat me to death. And then tell my corpse that its my own fault. I shouldnt have dressed the way I did.

[insert stack of crap photo]

The cop was nice though. Genuinely. He was trying to help me and he understood. There was not much to be done. As he was doing his cop homework in his car I was cleaning out the trunk. I found the motor mount I had bought back in 2021 thinking I would figure out a way to swap it out. I never did figure out how to swap it out. The engine needed to be cherry picked or pushed up, and even though I had options, I never utilized those options. There was also a couple map books that I kept around. One of those tire rods with four different sizes. A pair of very large socks. Other stuff too. I could have had a trunk sale. I asked the cop if he wanted anything. This windshield scraper? This five gallon bucket? This copy of The Judy Blumes: Wild & Free cd? He told me to leave it on the side of the road and somebody would pick it up. Then he warned me that because the address on my drivers license was different than my current address I could get a ticket, wink-wink.

Wink-wink.

I guess my new life starts today. RIP Junior Mint. You did me good for four solid years. I can check my files, but I think it was almost exactly four years ago that you came into our lives. I wish I could do video collation of how much fun we had together. That you were named Junior Mint because Don "Junior Mint" Trump JR was called that by Kimberly Guilfoyle, I mean, her pet name for him. And because you were mint colored. And you went through three different flex pipes. Three sets of tires. An infinite series of brakes, brake pads, rotors, calipers. You got great gas mileage! You took me from Vom to Portland, Maine to New York City, to Philadelphia, to Buffalo, to Rochester, to the Canadian border. You went uphill and downhill. Remember when I got your oil changed in that place outside of Bennington when that lady tried to sell me a $2,000 exhaust upgrade? Or was it $3,000? That is so wild! And then G was driving you around town?

Im going to miss you, man. I love you! When it is time, you and me can root gods lawn together up in heaven. Think of me from time to time, because you know I will be thinking of you.

[insert in the arms of angels]