Never tried smashing pumpkins, but I guess I might like it
So save your prayers
For when you're really gonna need them
- Smashing Pumpkins, Zero
...
I drive an Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera--it's a white station wagon. Whenever I park in front of the house, the pecan tree pisses on it and pigeons shit all kinds of colors all over it, so I've been parking across the street, in front of the neighbor's house (it's not really in front of their house, since they have a corner house). I've never seen them park there, and Rick said that they wouldn't mind.
When I left for campus today, I saw my neighbor for the first time: he was a hoss with bleached-blond, spiked hair. He had tats on his arms. He was ranging his front lawn, and when he saw me, he asked, "How long's your car been that way?"
"What?" I asked. I thought maybe he meant to ask how long have I been parking in front of his house.
"Your car. When did that happen?"
I looked at my car and saw that my rear driver-side window-panel had been smashed. I hurried over to the window to get a closer look. It was still intact, but the entire panel was spider-webbed, radiated from what looked like a bullet hole or something equally precise.
"Oh my God. What the fuck!?!"
"Yeah, I saw it this morning and knocked on your door but no one answered."
"This must've happened last night. It was perfectly fine when I parked it."
"Man, that really sucks. I'm sorry we have to meet this way. I'm Brian," he said, offering me his hand.
I took it and mumbled, "Yeah... my name's Rich."
"Listen, I got a shop-vac in the garage if you wanted to knock out the glass. I'm afraid it might start falling apart as you're driving."
"A shop-vac?"
"Oh, it's a cylindrical vacuum cleaner," he explained. I knew what it was, but I guess I was still dazed as to what to do with the situation. While I stared at the splintered glass, he continued, "I mean, I guess you don't have to do anything, if you just let it fall apart while you're driving, at least you won't have to clean up..."
I opened the rear-passenger door and look at the window from the inside. I touched both the inside and outside, applying light pressure. It seemed to hold. I told Brian, "It's all right; I'll chance it. I think it'll hold."
"You might wanna put some duct tape on it to hold it together, though."
I waited half a second before echoing him, "Put some duct tape to hold it together? You mean right across here?"
"Yeah, if you'd like. Just to make sure it doesn't fall apart."
"Yeah, I think I'll do that. I'll go in to see if I've got any duct tape." Then I closed the door and half the glass fell into the cargo bay.
"Well, looks like that decides it," Brian said.
"Fuck. Yeah."
He went to his garage to grab the shop-vac. I tossed my backpack and banana onto the driver's seat and went to retrieve the trashcan from the house. When I came back, there was a blond woman with piercings holding clear scotch-tape. She might've said her name, but I don't remember. She must've been Brian's girlfriend or wife or something. She taped the outside of the window while explaining that this has happened before, to Virginia, the girl who lived with Rick before, and also to them. She explained that her car was broken into and that someone stole their belongings. They sold that car and stopped parking on the street.
Brian brought out the shop-vac; I vacuumed the inside of the Ciera; and then I thanked them both for being so helpful. They advised me to look for a window at a junkyard or go to some shop whose name I don't remember right now because my memory is going to pieces and I'm not even sure if my neighbor's name is Brian.
Owning a car is such a fucking liability.
For when you're really gonna need them
- Smashing Pumpkins, Zero
...
I drive an Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera--it's a white station wagon. Whenever I park in front of the house, the pecan tree pisses on it and pigeons shit all kinds of colors all over it, so I've been parking across the street, in front of the neighbor's house (it's not really in front of their house, since they have a corner house). I've never seen them park there, and Rick said that they wouldn't mind.
When I left for campus today, I saw my neighbor for the first time: he was a hoss with bleached-blond, spiked hair. He had tats on his arms. He was ranging his front lawn, and when he saw me, he asked, "How long's your car been that way?"
"What?" I asked. I thought maybe he meant to ask how long have I been parking in front of his house.
"Your car. When did that happen?"
I looked at my car and saw that my rear driver-side window-panel had been smashed. I hurried over to the window to get a closer look. It was still intact, but the entire panel was spider-webbed, radiated from what looked like a bullet hole or something equally precise.
"Oh my God. What the fuck!?!"
"Yeah, I saw it this morning and knocked on your door but no one answered."
"This must've happened last night. It was perfectly fine when I parked it."
"Man, that really sucks. I'm sorry we have to meet this way. I'm Brian," he said, offering me his hand.
I took it and mumbled, "Yeah... my name's Rich."
"Listen, I got a shop-vac in the garage if you wanted to knock out the glass. I'm afraid it might start falling apart as you're driving."
"A shop-vac?"
"Oh, it's a cylindrical vacuum cleaner," he explained. I knew what it was, but I guess I was still dazed as to what to do with the situation. While I stared at the splintered glass, he continued, "I mean, I guess you don't have to do anything, if you just let it fall apart while you're driving, at least you won't have to clean up..."
I opened the rear-passenger door and look at the window from the inside. I touched both the inside and outside, applying light pressure. It seemed to hold. I told Brian, "It's all right; I'll chance it. I think it'll hold."
"You might wanna put some duct tape on it to hold it together, though."
I waited half a second before echoing him, "Put some duct tape to hold it together? You mean right across here?"
"Yeah, if you'd like. Just to make sure it doesn't fall apart."
"Yeah, I think I'll do that. I'll go in to see if I've got any duct tape." Then I closed the door and half the glass fell into the cargo bay.
"Well, looks like that decides it," Brian said.
"Fuck. Yeah."
He went to his garage to grab the shop-vac. I tossed my backpack and banana onto the driver's seat and went to retrieve the trashcan from the house. When I came back, there was a blond woman with piercings holding clear scotch-tape. She might've said her name, but I don't remember. She must've been Brian's girlfriend or wife or something. She taped the outside of the window while explaining that this has happened before, to Virginia, the girl who lived with Rick before, and also to them. She explained that her car was broken into and that someone stole their belongings. They sold that car and stopped parking on the street.
Brian brought out the shop-vac; I vacuumed the inside of the Ciera; and then I thanked them both for being so helpful. They advised me to look for a window at a junkyard or go to some shop whose name I don't remember right now because my memory is going to pieces and I'm not even sure if my neighbor's name is Brian.
Owning a car is such a fucking liability.