Considering my day started off with me almost getting blindsided as I was pulling out of my driveway by someone, evidently a little too excited that it’s Black History Month, I’ve decided to start this Million 400,000 Man March (fail) of questions in relation to cars. Seriously, I turned my head to the right, no car, I turned my head to the left, no car, and as the rear of my car was just hitting the asphalt, ZOOM goes a Toyota Land Cruiser a foot off my bumper. I’d ask the question of why black people drive so idiotically fast all the time, but I actually had been given a valid answer in the past which satiates the need to know.
What historic events led to the black man’s fascination with retired police cruisers?
I actually like this commercial. Guy sees something he really likes and wants, and does what more people should do in order to attain their desires – work for it. He busts his ass doing all the things nobody else wants to do, and in the end, surpasses his goal and is ultimately capable of buying two Jettas. Feel good story of a year.
But it got me thinking – given my own financial woes, and the fact that I have a tendency to get mind-numbingly bored from time to time, that I would be more than capable of doing some of the things this guy does in the commercial, in order to supplement some additional income on the side for my own needs. If it paid somewhat reasonable to off-set the cost of transportation, I’d gladly take ass-kickings from people while in pads, or walk dogs, or other odd jobs that don’t involve me having to deal directly with “customers,” are short periods at a time, and pay in cash under the table. I don’t think I’d want to be the guy at the corner of Ponce and Monroe dressed as Uncle Sam, schilling for tax prep businesses, be the hot dog guy, or do nude modeling, but there are other random odd jobs I’d be willing to do for some side cash.
Here’s the thing though; upon looking for odd jobs in the Metro Atlanta area, they simply don’t exist. Not to the under-the-table criteria that I’d prefer, at least. Going to Craigslist results in nothing but modeling, veiled modeling ads that sound like porn screening, and veiled modeling ads that are for shitty no-name rappers that eventually turn into porn screenings. That, or stuff that really does require existing skill, references, and experience. So I googled “odd jobs,” and found a promising site of potential odd job listings, but it literally provided nothing but a list of Craigslist ads for the same shit. And then, there was nothing else.
Maybe it’s because I’m not in San Francisco, or any other hippie/white/liberal community that would have random sheets of paper with tear-strips advertising one-off jobs on the fly, but at least in the Atlanta area, any tear sheets involve people trying to sell services so that they can make money, or support groups of some sort. Dog walking is now done through official agencies, or “professional” walkers, and it seems like the ability to get odd jobs is now dependent on the cliched “who you know” kind of mentality.
Much like the mom ‘n pop industries were more or less decimated by the evolution of Wal-Marts and other superstores, the odd job culture seems to have been destroyed by society, and the incorporation of small businesses turning common, small labor into work hoarding and essentially, pimping.
Today, while bored at work, I stumbled upon an article linked from Fark about slammed cars. While reading through the article, I couldn’t help but notice that much of the imagery, were all JPEGs that I’d seen before. Subsequently, much of the content seemed to be precariously similar, obviously re-written, but not a far stretch from the original sources.
Since the “author” of said article decided to publish her “piece” on a public forum, I decided to publicly insinuate that there was a little bit of plagiarism going on.
A good bit of the content here was funnier eleven years ago when it was originally posted on riceboypage.com
Both times I submitted the comment, it was deleted, almost immediately. If that doesn’t acknowledge a hint of guilt, I don’t know what does. Ain’t censorship a wonderful thing? Fuck [website redacted].* Their shit isn’t really that funny, and they produce more incessant, unfunny lists to inspire reminiscing than the E! network.
One of the biggest gripes I had when I got my car, aside from the fact that it turned out to be pretty lemony not even after a full year, was the fact that the two front rims were noticeably unsightly in comparison to the two rear rims. Given the fact that one of the cleaner of the two rear rims has been replaced with an even better conditioned, clean rim, it only exacerbates the hideousness of the front two. Conventional cleaning with soapy water and sponge are useless against the kind of blemishes on those rims – they were outright stains. A combination of ceramic brake pads, along with the kind of dust from the rotors that come from ceramics, combined with the heat of brakes, essentially baking the dust into the rims themselves led to some seemingly irremovable stains.
Muhammad Hassan promised that post-purchase, he would have his detailing guys set up an appointment for me and get the rims cleaned, but that never happened. I didn’t want to go all the way to Roswell just for detailing, and he kept flaking out and making up bullshit excuses that his guys were always booked, and I’m fairly certain he was aware of this factor. Either way, I gave up on the situation, regardless of how principally irresponsible that was; a 60 mile drive, in escalating gas prices land, for an uncomfortable situation, and uncertainty of getting resolved just didn’t seem like it was worth it.
Gotta love car repair. If you don’t go somewhere at ass o’clock, then there is no chance you get service done the same day. Almost like trying to fly standby. But anyway, new wheel, new tires, and now brake work, and almost $800 (so far) credit card debt. But at least for the first time in ages, my car feels good again. Dare I almost say awesome. The axle/joint issues are still there, lingering, but for the time being, I have wait for my ass to stop bleeding before I delve further into debt.
So long, EPA estimated 30 miles per gallon. Going the vehicul’s top speed for two straight weeks had that one benefit, but I’m certainly glad to be through with that ordeal now.
With one spotless, crack-free rim, and four fresh, brand-new tires, I found myself soaring to work at a generous speed; naturally following the pace of traffic, that is. And for the time being, one of these wheels is not like the other, meaning two are stained and filthy, one is kinda dirty, and one looks like it just came off the assembly line. But damn, has this briefly re-invigorated my love of driving again, since I’m no longer constrained to 55 mph.
For the first time in a while, I’m in good spirits, subsequently. I’ve also noticed that while at work, when returning to the cube from the printer, I have a tendency to roll my proofs into tubes, long ways. And I brandish them like a club, or a simulated weapon. It makes me feel a little carnal, in a way.
The hand that has been feeding me throughout the last three years is now seriously jeopardizing my immediate future. Aside from the earnest, honest approach to the situation, I don’t know what to do, if things do take the worst-case scenario.
In other news, my replacement wheel still has not arrived, and I am still driving around on a god damn donut. At this, I am perturbed, but my morale is still not all lost, because I am currently working, and am still under the belief that 2011 is going to be a much better year.
