Saturday, March 08, 2008

What Happens When We Aren't There

This weekend, the entire region—maybe the whole coast—is getting rained on. We're having flash floods and my poor Henry the Ford has declared himself allergic to rain.

Last night, he mysteriously started after refusing to start for an hour. I placed him back in his garage until he can get his bits and pieces checked out for cracks. This is the same thing that happened a month ago, before I had his starter replaced.

Guess it wasn't the starter after all. Well, what's $300 between friends?

I trudged home from the garage in the rain, and stopped by a Korean deli en route.

It was a slow night. I was the only customer. The normally blase staff greeted me like a long-lost friend.

I dallied too long over the coconut milk, and when I looked up, the staff was playing hacky-sack with a lemon. They spotted me watching, and quickly stopped to stand stiffly at attention by the lettuce.

I laughed, and they broke into guilty smiles.

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