The Protection Racket

Related Post Roulette

7 Responses

  1. Avatar North
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    says:

    Quite bemusing.Report

  2. Avatar Mike Schilling
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    says:

    You junked a car in Reno, just to watch it die?Report

  3. Avatar Burt Likko
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    says:

    My vision for my vacation, coincident with my tenth anniversary of marriage to Natasha, was for a week of no stress, as little driving as possible, reading, and writing. Then Natasha’s mother-in-law was going to come for three days, which meant a trip to and from Reno to fetch her and later drop her off at the airport. Then Natasha’s friend was going to come up and meet us which meant driving down into SLT through five miles of construction.

    The friend flaked, didn’t even call us.

    On our drive down to Reno, the radiator hose in my car burst while we were in Carson City. Took three hours to get it fixed. Mother-in-law missed her flight; we got her a new ticket for the next day.

    Then driving back from the Reno airport, the car broke down again climbing the kingsbury grade, leading to me feeding a squirrel to make myself feel better while waiting for the tow truck. As it stands, my car is in Gardnerville with an uncertain future and I need to make my way down the hill to get a rental that I may or may not need to get home.

    So, Squeaky the Squirrel has a question: given $300 of repairs already sunk in to a car worth maybe $1,000 on the open market, do I a) get that car fixed no matter what, b) take the rental car home to Southern California, or c) spend some time with my bank and try to buy a car while I’m here?Report

  4. Avatar zic
    Ignored
    says:

    I spent our tenth anniversary in a Bill Moss tent with our children in my mother’s back yard. My husband, at home in Metro Boston. We had two children, both conceived on our anniversary, born two years apart, and both contraception failures. I’d just been told not to have any more children due to spinal injury, and the planned permanent fix to the reproductive conundrum hadn’t yet transpired. So we put miles between us.

    But the Bill Moss tent is a work of art; a pentagram. After a week or two sleeping in it, it would take me months to adjust to being in a square room again.

    Report

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