as far down as the turtles go
Friday, June 21 2019
When I started driving off in the Prius to begin my weekend, I could feel a problem with one of the wheels, which was creating a lot of gravel noise. I stopped and went to look, and sure enough, the front driver's side wheel was completely flat. I'd only driven about 20 feet, so I backed into the space I'd just left, almost hitting some woman attached helicopter-style to her skinny little white son (the parking lot being full of parents and children on late Friday afternoons). I quickly busted out all the tools (including the special tool for removing the one proprietary nut securing every wheel), jacked up the car, and then, with the lug nuts removed, worked on breaking the layer of rust that had welded the rim to the rest of the car. My colleague Joe came out while I was doing these things, expressed the socially-appropriate empathy, and then told me about how his son had somehow gotten a deck screw lodged in the sidewall of one of the tires of his BMW. "How did that happen?" I asked. Joe had no idea. At some point I noticed the car rolling slightly forward, at which point it fell off its jack. Apparently one has to secure the emergency brake before jacking up a Prius.
Eventually I broke the layer of rust and replaced the wheel with the donut. Normally I drive south out of Red Hook on my way home, but today I drove into the middle of the village to get a bottle of Lillet and a half gallon of Gary's Good Vodka from Sipperley's Grog Shop. We'd be having a dinner party tomorrow night, and Gretchen had ordered Lillet and canned hearts of palm. For that second item, I had to visit the Hannford on 9W. I don't know if I'd been to the supermarket in over a year.
This evening, I drank booze and smoked pot (the first of that in weeks) and watched the last episode of this season of Black Mirror, the one featuring Miley Cyrus as a pop star being marginalized and replaced by unscrupulous managers and technology. The watching of that episode was interrupted by Gretchen and me watching the first episode of the second season of Barry. But I was a little too far gone to grok most of what I was seeing, other than the pervasive theme of Nine Inch Nails' "Head Like a Hole" (mostly through a syrupy pop-music filter) in the Black Mirror episode. Amazingly, though, by transitioning to kratom tea, I managed to regain control of my evening by the time I went to bed.
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