Unocal
Tuesday night I realized that my headlights were out. I was surprised that they both went out at the same time, until someone mentioned that one had been out for a while. I’m always the last to know. On Wednesday I pulled up to my service station, Unocal on 26th and Wilshire, only to find that they were gone. When an employee of the gas station told me that their lease was up, my sphincter tightened. I’m not very good with change and I loved my mechanics. They weren’t cheap, but they were always honest. The next closest station is the Unocal on 26th and San Vicente. I was a little concerned since it’s a much higher rent district, but I packed up my wallet and took a chance.
Speaking of change, hypnosis is blowing my mind. I haven’t had the desire for a cigarette, nor the usual symptoms of withdrawal: eating fourteen times my body weight every twelve minutes, seizures, and just being a total prick. I take it back. I’m still a prick, but it has nothing to do with nicotine. What’s really freaking me out is that I haven’t smoked weed since Sunday night, either. I don’t know if I’d classify myself as an addict, but I can’t remember the last time that I was in Los Angeles, or surrounding areas, and did not consume pot in some way. I’m guessing it’s been years. Ten? Fifteen? I don’t know, all the weed has made my memory hazy. Now I never mentioned that I smoked pot to my hypnotist. And it’s not that I have an aversion to it, either. I just haven’t turned on my vaporizer, picked up a pipe, or eaten a cookie, jolly rancher, or caramel. So many vehicles, so little desire. I’m not saying I’m a quitter, because rehab is for quitters, but it’s an interesting byproduct of hypnosis.
On Wednesday I drove up to San Vicente and 26th to take my car in. They checked out my headlights and said I needed a new pair. The called me at home and told me it would be a hundred bucks installed. Done. After the gym on Thursday, I took my car back and dropped it off. I wanted an oil change, too. Robert, “The President” of the gas station, it says it on his card, introduced himself, which impressed me. I told him I wanted an oil change, as well. The mechanic mentioned it was fifty bucks, probably fifty percent more than my former mechanic three blocks away, but I didn’t care. It’s when the president tried to up sell me with a “special” oil change that I got concerned. Now when it comes to being up sold on beverages, I laugh, but if the guy has dirt under his finger nails and it involves something foreign to me, like my car, I’m an easy mark. Fine, do the two part oil change for a hundred bucks. At this point, I’m grabbing my ankles.
I went two doors over to Starbucks where I ordered a large iced coffee. For some reason, Starbucks charges more for iced coffee. I don’t know why. I figure since it’s mixed with ice, they use less of it. Peet’s has far superior coffee and charges the same. Who cares? I’m already lubing up my corn hole for the mechanic, might as well bury a twenty-ounce iced coffee in there while I’m at it. After a delightful ninety minutes of reading the paper in eighty degree weather, my car was done. I went over and on my receipt, it said, “Recommendations: Serpentine belt and A/C belt.” I don’t know about the former, but I was told the latter refers to “air conditioning,” an option I don’t have on my car. I was suspicious. President Robert told me that the serpentine belt has cracks in it, so I give my hamstrings another good stretch. He said it would take two hours and cost two hundred bucks. Since I’m made of money, I said sure. I figure my car’s value has gone up over four hundred percent this week with new rear tires, new headlights, and a sham oil change. Keep it coming. True to their word, the work was done in two hours for two hundred dollars.
I forgot to mention that Wednesday night, I stepped on the power cord to my laptop, breaking it off. After leaving Unocal, I stopped by the Mac Mall. Turns out I only had to replace the cord, which I got from a third party for half the price of an Apple model. It felt like a victory. I feel that I can trust my hypnotist and Mac Mall. We’ll see how my car runs. Hopefully, I can also trust Unocal.
