Hey crazy white boy. Since you be the mechanic, I want you to see if you can get my car running. Sorry about yesterday. I didn’t be meanin’ to bother you about borrowing money. Call me when you get home, George said in his last message.
I called George and we both walked down to his car that was sitting dead behind the convenience store and car wash. The engine was completely locked up and the oil smelled burnt. George was not happy when I told him that the engine was a goner. I doubt they even sell replacement engines for such an older oddball vehicle.
“Call me if you need a ride in an emergency,” I told George as I started to walk the five minutes back home.
“What I am going to do?” George asked, looking completely disgusted and confused.
“Save up some money and buy you a nice, used, and reliable Honda Civic or Accord,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
George’s cousin, Monte, is supposed to come and tow the car to George’s house. George also has an old ’79 Ford Thunderbird, but it isn’t running at the moment as well. I don’t know what George is going to do. George’s car was the lifeblood of his money making scheme and an integral part of his eccentric personality. I guess George will have to sober up and take a regular job like a normal person. I can’t imagine George working for someone else though. He is so independent and opinionated. It will be strange days, indeed.
I have a friend who loves to hear what I eat at Rodger's Barbeque on a daily basis so this is for her. I was going to take a picture of today's meal, but my stomach overruled and I ate it before taking a photo. Today, I had country fried steak and gravy, mashed potatoes, steamed cabbage, pinto beans, cornbread, and a big glass of sweet iced tea. It was delicious.