Yep, that’a all I wanted, fellas — a lil’ salad, for cryin’ out loud.
If you don’t know the reference, it’s from a scene in the film, ‘The Green Mile’. Sam Rockwell plays the role of Wild Bill, a notorious criminal on death row. The clip including the phrase this post is based on is below, with a bit of a warning for the kiddos.
Warning: A tidbit of explicit language occurs in this video. Viewer discretion is advised.
So what happened was this: Leave us rewind to last weekend, when I was on my way home from Sunday service. All was well and as I merged onto a particular Southern California highway (Rte. 60, for those of you in the know), my vehicle hiccupped. Literally. The RPM gauge dropped to zero for a split second and then kicked back to normal. And then did it again. And then again. I did not lose speed at any time but was concerned — if I was in the middle or high lane, what would happen if the engine stopped? I turned off the radio, slowed down, and merged to the right. I kept in traffic and got home safely. However, I was not happy about this turn of events.
On Monday, I contacted my mechanic shop. ‘Is it doing it now?’ Nidal asked.
‘Uh, not exactly, I responded. ‘I got it home with no problems but did not drive it today.’ Mind you, this shop has done all the work on this truck (my Christopher’s 1997 GMC Suburban, known affectionately by me as the Blue Behemoth) since we’ve been in California so these guys are like family.
‘Well, we won’t be able to know anything if it’s not still doing it. You could either bring it and leave it here or drive it around locally to see what it does.’
Since all was well after a few miles coming home (I had re-engaged the phonograph … I mean, CD player … and had no problems), I decided to take up Door #2. ‘Okay, I’ll drive it to the gym a couple days this week and see what’s up.’
‘Sure,’ Nidal answered. ‘That’s good. Drive locally so if anything happens, you won’t be far away.’
I did as I said: drove the Behemoth to the gym on Tuesday, made one stop, came home, and had no issues. I think I might have gone one other place between Tuesday and today and all was well. Figuring I’d survived a near disaster, I pondered whether to drive it a) to the gym this morning, b) out to Cabazon to meet my uncle who is in town if we could coordinate schedules, or c) both to the gym and Cabazon.
I decided to start small and go to the gym. Again, all well. I got to the gym with no issues and left with no issues (other than achy legs, but that had a bit more to do with the workout than the car).
But I wanted a lil’ salad, so I thought to stop at a local salad-seller on my way home. I pulled into the parking lot, as had another potential customer. He was dressed in office attire so I figured he was making a quick stop before work. He rushed from his vehicle to the store entrance before I got out of the Behemoth. By the time I got out and had locked my door, he was coming back to his car. ‘Not open yet?’ I asked.
‘Not until 8,’ he answered.
We wished each other a good day and I returned to my vehicle to leave. I got in, cranked up and … nope. The engine turned over like a champ but wouldn’t catch. I tried two times and stopped. Out came the trusty AAA card. ‘Our independent contractor should be there within 30 minutes,’ the tech informed me.
In the meantime, I got the Behemoth going, but the ‘Check Engine Soon’ light was on. I called back to cancel my AAA service and gingerly pulled out of the parking area. Everything was fine all the way to the mechanic shop, where I parked it and waited for Sal, the hands-on mechanic (Nidal is the office manager who does some smaller jobs, but Sal is the surgeon, technician, super-all-around-vehicle-pro). I sadly left my big blue baby in very capable hands and was driven home.
Note: I could have walked (it’s probably about six miles) or grabbed a bus (haven’t ever taken public trans here but know where the closest station to the mechanic shop and to my house is, which would have dropped my walk to a mile), but it was leg day at the gym. Don’t judge.
So here I am, still wanting just a lil’ salad. Sigh. Guess Claus (my sedan), will head to another salad-seller shortly. Sniff.
All I wanted was a lil’ salad …