Rent-a-Relic

Cubby, our little Toyota Echo, is trying to get into other people's lanes. The front right shock is dust and with every bump the nose drags starboard. I quickly straighten out and prepare for the next bump. There's always something wrong with our car and this is just the latest.

I have the best mechanic ever. I mean ever. You know how the disembodied television voice recommends you talk to your doctor before considering anything? Well, I never got that, I've never had a doctor. I had a dentist once and then he retired. Now I got Johnny and he's smarter than most doctors I've met.

I finagled my way out of work today and drove the car in this morning to the auto shop. Cubby's gonna have to spend a few days away from home so I had to rent a car. Luckily Johnny had one out front belonging to a rental agency up in Berkeley. He gave the guy a call and I drove the rig over. The car rental shop is called Rent-a-Relic specializing in old crappy Ford sedans with no pretensions in a wide range of hideous colors. I instantly loved the place.


The latest line of Ford buggies.

The one I got isn't in the picture, it's around back. An old Escort beater with loose brakes and a hot pedal, painted a green that doesn't exist in nature. I love it. All the stations on both FMs are tuned to Mexican circus music and AM is of course drivel on all dials anyhow. I tell the guy I love this car. He challenges me to try to lose it in a parking lot. With that color it's impossible, he says. He's right. It's the color of 80's leggings, Teenage Mutant Ninja-style shag carpet. This guy's great. He's wearing what looks like an Indian Nation hat with mixed up dreamcatcher peace sign and the word Oakland below it. I get a few stories, nice ones... about how he met his wife and what it's like pushing customer service all day. I give him a few stories of my own and a handshake.

I drive out of there with the windows down into the Berkeley land mine of speed bumps. It can be pretty overwhelming turning down a street and seeing twenty speed bumps ahead of you. I think of all the pimped out Buicks and Cadillacs, butt end dragging with hydraulics pumped to the hood. It makes me feel better. I hope the homeys drag their fenders off every time.

Oh and get this, the best part, I'm paying forty bucks for three days. Nostalgia for the days I never saw.