Breaking into My Car(s)

Today I had the pleasure of locking my keys in my car, and, having no spares, being forced to find a way in.

In the end, I was able to get in using a clotheshanger, by pushing down on the electric window-opener (which only worked because the keys were in the ignition). It took about 10 minutes (5 to think of what to do, 5 to get in using the clotheshanger).

It made me think about getting into / getting locked out of previous cars I've owned.

1. 1993 Dodge Grand Caravan
It happened quite a few times with the Caravan, but I had a nifty plastic wallet key so I was always able to get back in.

2. 1979 Mercedes-Benz 300SD
It happened one or two times with the Mercedes, which I (luckily) had a spare key for, so I was always able to use that to get back in. And that was a good thing, because the Mercedes doors, locks, and windows were built like a tank. I would never have been able to "break in" without a key.

3. 1983 Chevy Chevette
I don't remember ever locking myself out of the Chevette, probably because it worked so infrequently that I almost never drove it.

4. 1981 Ford Escort
It was impossible to lock myself out of the Escort, because it only locked from the outside (it was missing the push-down lock button on the driver's side).

5. 1983 Dodge Ramcharger
Surprisingly easy to break into, because the windows would roll down basically just by pushing them down.

6. 1981 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme Brougham
Already explained at the beginning of this entry.

The moral of the story is: it's cool to be talented enough to break into your own car, but it's much easier to simply own a spare key. Also: although most modern clotheshangers are the plastic type, it's a good idea to have a few of the old metal wire ones: you never know when you'll need one!

Today in Google autofill fun...

That Guy's Got a Lot of Verve

I was leaving early in the morning last week to go print out some things before class. My roommate stopped me on the way out the door, "Hey, man, I noticed that you had some of those Rockstar energy drinks in the fridge, thought you might want to try one that I've been using lately," he said, sounding a bit stilted and offering me a "Verve! Energy Shot".
"Oh... thanks!" I said, "I'll give this a shot."
"Yeah, let me know what you think!"

"Uhhh, OK, will do," and I left. This event struck me as odd, but not extremely so. I just figured he really liked this energy drink. Then I tried it, and decided that he had given it to me because he DIDN'T like it and was trying to get rid of it.

Then, two days ago, I got a knock at the door to my room. I answered, "Yes?"
"Oh, hey man, I made you this little finals week care package, it's just something I like to do," he said, offering me a yogurt cup, a cheesestick, and a "Verve! Energy Drink".
"Ummmm... thanks," I said, confused, and went back into my room with the goods. This was a different drink than the first one, but still a "Verve!" brand drink. This roommate didn't do any kind of "care package" last quarter and, if you ask me, a cheesestick, yogurt cup, and energy drink is a pretty crappy care package and more closely resembles "stuff I don't want in my fridge anymore."

So, I was suspicious.

I looked closer at the can of "Verve!". It had the motto, "Insanely Healthy Energy". So I looked at the ingredients and noticed that there was nothing insanely healthy or even different from any other energy drink about them. The only difference between this and other energy drinks was that this one tasted like the energy drinks you get at Big Lots for 60¢ each. In other words, not spectacular. Nor did it energize me. So, I looked up Verve! online. Ah-HA! Looks like the only way one can get Verve! is by buying it from one of their "independent distributors" OR becoming a distributor yourself! Classic pyramid scheme, or as they try to advertise them now, "Multi-level marketing" (or MLM).

So, clearly, my roommate is trying to get me to buy crappy energy drinks from him. The "care package" thing actually sounds like the kind of "great idea" an infomercial would have for "subtly" trying to lasso your friends into buying junk from you.

I wonder how many free drinks he'll give me before breaking down and asking if I like it enough to buy it, at which point my answer would be, "No, you should sell Rockstar."

Fighting my (Negative) Nature

Today I was fairly (no, extremely) angry and frustrated when I arrived to pick up my daily allotment of newspapers to deliver to find that there were 4 complaints about not receiving a newspaper on Saturday morning, and 2 of those complaints were canceling their subscription due to my "poor service".

Yes, I did not get papers to several people on Saturday morning, due to weather conditions in which I literally could NOT get to those people's houses to deliver their papers. Other than (highly) inclement weather, I have ALWAYS delivered these people their newspapers. So 100+ delivered papers and about 3-4 undelivered papers (which were always brought by the next day, by the way), and suddenly that constitutes poor service.

I was pretty angry all day, thinking of long letters I would like to leave in those people's newspapers boxes, explaining in great detail why they are colossal jerks.

Then it hit me.

These people, having received good service the vast majority of the time, decided to focus on the few times that they felt they did not receive good service.

Similarly, I, having received good treatment from the vast majority of my customers, decided to focus on the few ones who treated me poorly.

So then I got to thinking, why IS it that we tend to focus so much more on the bad things that happen than on the vast majority of GOOD (or at least neutral) things? I believe the answer is that we are biologically inclined to pay special attention to bad things. From a survival standpoint, this completely makes sense. Those people that would have been inclined towards paying attention to bad things (like a small amount of poisonous berries in a large patch of good berries) would survive at a higher rate than those who gave equal attention to both good and bad.

So, I'm no longer upset. I'm just a descendent of survivors, just like those disgruntled newspaper subscribers.

Extreme Rural Newspaper Delivery Driving (Part 2)

The tools of the trade:

- Shovel (to dig myself out of snow)

- Cat sand (to lay on ice so my tires can grip the road)

- Blanket (multi-purpose)

- Jacket/coat/hat/gloves (because it's freezing outside)

- Ice scraper/brush

- Duct tape (because you never know)

A must for extreme newspaper delivery drivers: latex-lined sporty-red colored dollar store gloves.

Extreme Rural Newspaper Delivery Driving (Part 1?)

So back in December I got a job at the local newspaper delivering newspapers throughout the upper Kittitas County area. Mostly in Cle Elum and the surrounding areas, but as far North as Easton, WA.

I've also been here,
although this is the first
time I've noticed how much
this sign resembles a
certain male appendage.

I've been here minus the moose.

In case you aren't familiar with where Cle Elum is, I'll provide a point of reference: it's about 2 miles from Roslyn, Washington, where the TV show Northern Exposure was filmed. In case you're unfamiliar with Northern Exposure, it's a TV show about living in a small town in Alaska. This should provide a hint as to the typical weather conditions in this lovely part of the country. This can (and sometimes does) make for some interesting driving on bad weather days, especially driving around in a 1981 Ford Escort. This has made me into a super-pro winter-weather driver, which I will discuss in more detail in a
                                                           future blog entry.

Over the next few days (weeks? months?) I will summarize a few of the more interesting aspects of this paper delivery route.

My Relationship with 7-11 and How It's Destroying My Life

Oh, 7-11.

We have a love affair that can't be put into words.

Going to get a Slurpee in the summer growing up was a rare, rare treat. Your services in providing caffeine in so many different vessels through so many different liquids throughout my college years and the trips back and forth across campus both alone and with friends are memories and debts that I can never put a value on beyond 'priceless.'

But after graduating and moving on to the "adult" and "real" world, I thought our young, impetuous fling of fun and convenience had run its course. But, every time I went to Seattle to visit friends, go out for beers, go to Mariners and Sounders games, and stayed out past two or had a long drive or long ferry ride home or needed to sober up for an hour or two, you were always there. In fact, you still are. There are at least 8 of you, always open, never judging me all within a 10-mile radius of Seattle. And so it continues.s campus at all times of day and night with friends was and is an indelible debt and memory for which I will always be eternally grateful.

But again, such a relationship doesn't run deep; I use you and you use me. You're on that side of the water; I'm on this side of the water. Our rendezvous in Seattle are random and they don't last long. There's no commitment and no guilt; we have an understanding.

But then you...you...you bitch! You had to go and open TWO new locations within two miles of my home and work. You used our past that I thought was special but with no strings attached and you used what you know about me against me! You know I'm a procrastinator. You know that I stay up late and get up early. You know that I don't like making coffee in the morning despite it's simplicity and financial savings. You know I never grocery shop more than 1-2 days in advance so I hardly ever have breakfast or lunch ready for the day. You took our special connection and you have made me into your despondent whore. I may have been your whore before, but it was cheap and inconsequential, or so I thought. And now it's...come to this.

It's 3am, again, and I'm getting up 4 hours early to go in to work to finish some things, but I need coffee and caffeine and food for later in the day. No espresso stands are open this early. The 24-hour Safeway is no longer open 24 hours but now opens at 6am.

As a way of hating myself even more and publicly revealing how you've ruined my life and as a way of avoiding going to work yet and having to see you one minute sooner than I have to, below are my...my sins.

1 Month Tally:

$6.17

$10.27

$6.05

$15.73

$12.19

$11.28

$4.01

$8.53

$2.05

$4.37

$9.94

$4.22

$6.56

$1.84

Sadly, these are all separate trips, and this only reflects debit card records from a single month; there were at least several occasions where I used cash.

The evidence is damning - I'm left with no defense.