>Finally, though, Steve succeeded in doing the impossible and the Neon
>was returned to me, all shined up and with the new wheel not
>too obvious compared to the other three. They even bought me
>two new tires, so that both of the ones on the back would be
>worn about the same.

I just randomly remembered the funny postscript to this part. Since the insurance company replaced both of the Neon's rear tires even though I'd only lost one of them, that left me with an extra tire. No rim or anything, just the tire. It was relatively new, only 10 or 15 thousand miles on it, but I didn't need it or really know what to do with it--this was before eBay or Craigslist were Things, and I didn't want to sell it to a service station or something for the few pennies they would've paid me for it, so for a few weeks I just drove around with this random bonus tire taking up most of the trunk.

I lived in a pretty iffy part of Oakland, and the nearest big box stores were over in Emeryville, which was not a whole lot better. The Walmart was particularly annoying, because there were always sketchy dudes hanging out in the parking lot who would follow you around laying some kind of sob story or another on you about how they needed money for this or that Urgent Life Crisis. No doubt some of them really did, but most of them were just low-rent con artists (or worse, although it wasn't such a bad part of town that they'd get violent in the Walmart parking lot in broad daylight).

One day not longer after I got my car back, I had to go to either that Walmart or the Home Depot that shared its parking lot, and one of those guys zeroed in on me as I was leaving the store and started following me to my car, unspooling a tragic story about how some ex-boyfriend or something slashed one of the tires on his girlfriend's* car, and she couldn't afford to get a new one, and neither could he, and if she didn't get it fixed quick she'd lose her job, and then CPS would take away their kids, and on and on.

I was pretty sure he was trying to scam me, because he was way too chatty and glib for someone facing an actual catastrophic life event--it was a lot like the bits of the Beverly Hills Cop movies where Axel Foley would lay a huge line of bullshit on someone--but I kind of liked his delivery and he didn't seem threatening, so I kept walking and let him talk.

We got to the Neon and I asked him, "What kind of car does she have?"

"Y'know what, you not gonna believe this, but it's the same kind as this one here," he said, with a wide-eyed look of amazement at this incredible cosmic coincidence.

"Huh! How 'bout that? Well, I'm not going to give you any money," I said, and before he could protest I said, "but I tell you what I will do." I opened the trunk, took out the bonus tire, and handed it to the guy, who took it with a look of complete bafflement.

"There you go," I said. "It's used, but it's got plenty of life left in it, should last her a couple-three years."

"Uhhh..." he said. "Thanks?"

"No problem. Happy to help. You have a good day now."

As I drove away, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw he was standing there, holding the tire in both arms and sort of awkwardly waving to me with one hand, still with that look of utter bemusement on his face. I don't know whether he was for real and I made his week, or a scam artist unable to process the sudden right turn his day had just taken, but either way, I got rid of the tire. :)

--G.
*or, well, I'm pretty sure he legitimately used the phrase "baby mama"
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Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Mod
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited http://www.eyrie-productions.com/
zgryphon at that email service Google has
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