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Today has been a day of Vehicle Handling.
Rob left his bike on the bus, and thus I went down to camp the bus spawn (fortunately, the bus company people were very helpful) until the 338 arrived again. I signed some paperwork, and took the rather smug bike back home after its tour of a very small subset of Austin. Which reminded me, as I rode through a few quiet streets, just how much I like bike riding.
...sadly, there is virtually nowhere good to ride for any length around our house. Either there's heavy traffic with no bike lines, or heavier traffic with bike lanes (and I do not trust Austin drivers around bikes even with lanes), or no sidewalks wide enough that it feels polite to ride there, or it's just plain short. I could ride to the grocery store quite comfortably! It's about .15mi. That is not exactly a bike ride worth hauling out the tire pump for.
Maybe I'll start riding to the video game store (more like .2mi!) to play Skylanders on a regular basis with the owner, who's quite enthusiastic about this option. As am I. Since no one at home will play Skylanders with me, I've seen no reason to invest in the game and figures and extra controller, but if I can buy my own figure that keeps its stats recorded and then play with someone else, well. That works for me.
Anyway. After that I finally took the car to Jiffy Lube. Or meant to, after which I'd track down a place that did state inspections, but three blocks before the JL, I saw that Midas Touch was advertising oil changes for about the same rate. And it turns out that they would do state inspections.
So I sat in that waiting room for an hour and a half, playing pokemon and watching a lot more Pawn Stars than I ever had before, while other people walked in to acquire bad news and walked out again. It was something like this:
"Did you finish the inspection?"
"Yes, it looks like your car hasn't been inspected since 2003, and it's dripping oil from this line."
"I thought the radiator was needing more topping off than usual."
"Yeah, it looks like you need this part, and we don't have it available. We can order it in, but it'll be about $220 before labor."
"Could you take a look at my beamer? I need to get the tire number."
"...the tire number?"
"Yeah, the tire tread number. On my beamer."
"Oh, like tread depth."
"Yeah, the tire number! For my beamer."
"Yes, we'll look at your beamer."
"Last time I was here they said my brakes didn't have any brake shoes, and I didn't care because they rust right off in Michigan, but now I want to sell the car and Texas says I have to have them, so I need those."
"Wait. You don't have any brake shoes?"
"Yeah, they looked and didn't see any, I guess they've been gone for years."
"...none? The whole thing's missing? What about the line?"
"I don't know, we don't bother with those in Michigan! They rust right off!"
"They're...on the inside..."
"I don't have any. We don't care about them in Michigan. They rust right off. But I need them now to sell the car. That's the only reason I care! We don't care about those in Michigan, because they rust right off."
"...let's go take a look."
In any case, I was rather full of trepidation by the time I got called to the counter. At which point the guy at the counter said that everything was fine, they'd changed the oil and topped off the fluids, and the tires dated back to 2010 but were in really great shape, still had their nubbins, we must not drive the car much. And then joked a bit about the driver he was just speaking with on the phone, assured me that they had indeed added air to the tires, and sent me off.
Well. That was a lot less painful than I feared.
Rob left his bike on the bus, and thus I went down to camp the bus spawn (fortunately, the bus company people were very helpful) until the 338 arrived again. I signed some paperwork, and took the rather smug bike back home after its tour of a very small subset of Austin. Which reminded me, as I rode through a few quiet streets, just how much I like bike riding.
...sadly, there is virtually nowhere good to ride for any length around our house. Either there's heavy traffic with no bike lines, or heavier traffic with bike lanes (and I do not trust Austin drivers around bikes even with lanes), or no sidewalks wide enough that it feels polite to ride there, or it's just plain short. I could ride to the grocery store quite comfortably! It's about .15mi. That is not exactly a bike ride worth hauling out the tire pump for.
Maybe I'll start riding to the video game store (more like .2mi!) to play Skylanders on a regular basis with the owner, who's quite enthusiastic about this option. As am I. Since no one at home will play Skylanders with me, I've seen no reason to invest in the game and figures and extra controller, but if I can buy my own figure that keeps its stats recorded and then play with someone else, well. That works for me.
Anyway. After that I finally took the car to Jiffy Lube. Or meant to, after which I'd track down a place that did state inspections, but three blocks before the JL, I saw that Midas Touch was advertising oil changes for about the same rate. And it turns out that they would do state inspections.
So I sat in that waiting room for an hour and a half, playing pokemon and watching a lot more Pawn Stars than I ever had before, while other people walked in to acquire bad news and walked out again. It was something like this:
"Did you finish the inspection?"
"Yes, it looks like your car hasn't been inspected since 2003, and it's dripping oil from this line."
"I thought the radiator was needing more topping off than usual."
"Yeah, it looks like you need this part, and we don't have it available. We can order it in, but it'll be about $220 before labor."
"Could you take a look at my beamer? I need to get the tire number."
"...the tire number?"
"Yeah, the tire tread number. On my beamer."
"Oh, like tread depth."
"Yeah, the tire number! For my beamer."
"Yes, we'll look at your beamer."
"Last time I was here they said my brakes didn't have any brake shoes, and I didn't care because they rust right off in Michigan, but now I want to sell the car and Texas says I have to have them, so I need those."
"Wait. You don't have any brake shoes?"
"Yeah, they looked and didn't see any, I guess they've been gone for years."
"...none? The whole thing's missing? What about the line?"
"I don't know, we don't bother with those in Michigan! They rust right off!"
"They're...on the inside..."
"I don't have any. We don't care about them in Michigan. They rust right off. But I need them now to sell the car. That's the only reason I care! We don't care about those in Michigan, because they rust right off."
"...let's go take a look."
In any case, I was rather full of trepidation by the time I got called to the counter. At which point the guy at the counter said that everything was fine, they'd changed the oil and topped off the fluids, and the tires dated back to 2010 but were in really great shape, still had their nubbins, we must not drive the car much. And then joked a bit about the driver he was just speaking with on the phone, assured me that they had indeed added air to the tires, and sent me off.
Well. That was a lot less painful than I feared.