So yesterday I chilled, after the long slog sitting and standing next to my dead SUV, and the tows, and the Ubers...For a guy less than a year from Medicare, it was quite a slog.
Around 10 am, I got a text from Gio, the service rep in Vera Caddy, asking if I got home ok. I told him better than ok -- I enjoyed the long talk with the retired engineer Uber man, Donald, from Port au Prince. Gio said they had my car in the bay and would get me an update.
Close to 2, I texted again, since I figured this was a major issue, and I needed them to arrange for a loaner or rental car for me. Gio texted back: au contraire! They had fixed the issue -- a fuel pump computer module that drained the battery and wouldn't let the car run or start, and would I like to pick up the SUV or have it delivered. I opted for the latter -- somehow a 3 hour round trip in traffic wasn't appealing.
Soon after, I got a text -- my car would arrive at 4:30, via Liliana the driver. Cool.
At 3, Dan the Gate Man arrived, and set about installing a new gate key pad. After 20 minutes he called me to come out to see the now wireless model -- with a 9 volt battery that would last 5 years, he said. Dan knows his gates. We also talked about his cancer journey -- he beat a tough lymphoma, and now has become an expert. I told him he MUST stay around -- he has been our only gate and garage man for the past quarter century. He promised to give it his best retired Marines try...
Wifey had left, for pilates and shopping following her session, and sure enough, at 4:20 I got a text that my SUV was home. I went out to greet Liliana, a mid 50s Cubana, and tipped her and gave her a water. I asked how she was getting back from Casa Carajo -- she loved that. An Uber was 10 minutes away, she said. I invited her in.
We hit it off right away -- she lived in the Pines next to Century Village. She was a retired teacher, now driving for the dealership since she loved to drive and make a few extra bucks. She was paid by the hour, she said, so traffic for her was profitable!
She marveled at the houses in Pinecrest, and said ours may be the nicest house she's ever been inside of. What a charmer. I told her some of the history, but left out the fact that one of the co-architects and owners, Jennifer, killed her teen kids and then herself in West Palm. Hey -- ghost stories have to have a basis...
I walked Liliana to the street, and opened her Uber door. "Wow -- there ARE still gentlemen." Again -- what a charmer.
Wifey arrived home with our chicken sandwiches. Well, not exactly. "I ate mine on the way home -- I was hungry -- here's yours." I bet Liliana wouldn't do that. Wifey is a trip all right.
But First World problems were solved for now. I'm skipping Canes this Saturday to hang with Little Man. I transferred my tickets to Phyllis, Barry's sister, and included the expired parking pass from last Saturday.
Barry and I Zoomed cocktails last night -- he had worked from home and dealt with the absurdity of health bureaucracy and huge academic doc egos.
He has different First World problems -- but we agree -- for a couple of roommates in a run down (then) WW II UM apartment -- we've come pretty far.
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