Bob, Nink and Zoe left on Monday morning. I went to work and Anne went to the post office. While she was waiting in line, a man came into the post office and exclaimed, “Jesus Christ”, at the line’s length. Because Anne has a filter, unlike me, she thought, but did not say to him, “You know, Jesus is the reason for the season.” Her restraint was wise, because I doubt that anyone else there would have found it amusing, on the Post Office’s busiest day of the year.
LA Dan flew in from the coast around midnight. It was a dark and stormy night, but his flight was not unduly delayed. Still, it made for a late night. Fortunately, I had Tuesday off, if you can call a day full of doctors and dentists, a day off, nothing to worry about, just preventative maintenance. Things went well until the last appointment, the dentist appointment. The receptionist was missing and a hygienist that I had never seen before greeted me. I gave my name and checking the computer, she told me that I didn’t have an appointment. I showed her my appointment card, but that didn’t seem to faze her much. I explained that I had taken off from work, driven a long way, had been with the dentist for thirty years, blah, blah, blah. I eventually wore her down and without having to explode to get my way. It is never a good idea to get angry with a women who is about to thrust sharp pointy sticks into your mouth. We proceeded under a flag of truce, she honoring my appointment, while pretending that she was being gracious in doing so and I being thankful for her special consideration, all the while not mentioning that it was their entire fault and not mine.
On the way home from the dentist, I decided to stop at an auto body shop. Located in Webster, it was recommended by my usual auto repair shop. I should have been suspicious from the get go. It is located in Old Webster, a tony neighborhood, and a way too tony neighborhood for an auto body shop, even one that has been there for 50+ years. When I called them and then when I stopped in to visit them, they were way too nice. I’ve heard enough Click and Klack to know that that is not the way auto mechanics are supposed to act. They even offered me refreshment. OMG! Finally, there was Nick. Nick was my estimator. He had a Breitling on his wrist and worse yet he looked like the male model in the watch company’s magazine ad. First he tried to sell me a whole new bumper for $750+. Then he offered me a heat gun fix for ~$250, but he only promised that it would look about 80% better, whatever that meant. All the while, he had a poster on the wall behind him that claims they do repairs that use the minimum of parts and materials, with a picture of a Prius on it. They’re green alright, greenback.