Car work and Radio days...

I was backing out of the driveway one hot summer afternoon when I saw Tiny standing in the street, playing with his car (as usual). Whenever I would see him, I would use it as an opportunity to roll up on him at top speed as if I'm gonna hit him, and go off on him for revving his super charged bright red Mustang at inappropriate hours of the night.

Even if I didn't hear the car the night before, it didn't matter. I never missed out on an opportunity to viciously remind him that he needed a tune-up or something.

Well, as usual, I rolled up on him. Before I could even speak, he turned to me looking all sad.

"I know you laughing, right?"
This caught me completely off guard. I put my car in park. "Laughing about what?"
He pointed down to the side of his car.
I looked down and saw his crushed up left fender. Apparently he'd been sideswiped, because much of the candy apple red paint was missing from the fender. It was if someone had taken a huge metal comb and scraped the side of his car.

"Awww damn man, somebody hit your car!!!"
"Yeah. And now it won't even drive right. He pointed at the front tire on the drivers side. "That wheel is all messed up."

He went on to explain everything that was wrong with his car due to the accident.

I didn't pay much attention to any of what he said. I just stared at him.

"What, LadyLee?" he asked, when I didn't comment on his laments.

"Dude, I bet you screamed like a woman when you saw the side of your car, didn't you?"

He just looked at me like I was crazy, and then continued to explain to me how he was going to fix his car.

Okay, whatever. I listened to his extremely long-winded explanation of how he got sideswiped on I-75.

"Well alright, Shawty, I'll holla at you later," I said. I sped off down the street, leaving him standing there staring down at his fender.

Needless to say, the neighborhood was quite quiet for a few days. No sounds of revving up of engines or anything of that nature, and that was fine by me.

So one afternoon I'm sitting on the sofa watching television and my doorbell rings. I decide to ignore it. Hell, since they didn't call, I wasn't answering.

My cell phone rings and I squint at the caller ID. It was Tiny. I answer the phone.

"Sup, Tiny?"
"Lee, what's up, girl?"
"Nothing, man. What's going on with you?"
"Where are you?"
"In the house."
"How you gonna be in the house and not answer the door? I'm standing out on your front porch right now. Answer the door."
I pressed my hand to my forehead. Damn!

I got up, opened the door and walked out on the front porch. Tiny was looking worried as hell. Dude was looking like he was being forced to ring my doorbell or something.
I looked around, trying to make sure no one was trying to run up on us. When I didn't see anyone, I looked at him, all of a sudden pissed that I was being disturbed.

"Man, what the heck you want?"
"Lee, I need to use your garage. I can't fix my car on the street."

Oh is that right? Now, I saw him out there once or twice fooling around with his car....

...And I saw the dealers on the corner eyeing him. I was like, dang, hope he don't get robbed and jacked!

Actually that wasn't his major concern. The police had been harrassing him about fixing his car in the street. We are under some type of weird city ordinance, where we are not allowed to work on our cars in the street or the yard. So I let him use my garage, which is in the back left part of my house. I gave him a garage door opener and the spare key to my car and told him to do his thing. My only stipulation was that I not be bothered. He said okay.

So I came home from work one day and saw his jacked up car in my garage.

I tried my best not to laugh, because I know he was a bit sad. After all, dude worships that doggone car! I wanted to say "Dude, your ride is fuugged up!!"



Of course, I had to hear full blown detailed explanations of exactly what he had to do to get his fenders back on, the type of drill he had to use, etc... all the intricate details of getting that damn car back in shape...

And I had to hear full details each. and. every. day. While standing outside in 90+ degree heat.

You know, I try to be polite and all. And he's an engineer, so I figure he likes that type of stuff and has to explain what he is doing, but damn. Dude, I am a girl... I just don't care about cars AT ALL! And it is hot and humid as all get out when I get home from work. I just want to go inside and get out of the heat!

Now, I rarely drive my car. I carpool everday (I am chauffeured back and forth to work by the Infamous Hen-Dog... that would be a better way of putting it), so my car usually sits in the garage. I only use it for doing a bit of running around here and there.

So, Tiny would have to move my car in order to get his car in my garage. As a result, a different line of conversation crept up all of a sudden.

"LadyLee, you need to wash your car!"
I laughed. "Dude I'm not like you. I (or better yet, Snake) only wash my car once a season. I can care less if it's dirty, as long as it cranks and I can get from point A to point B."

Another day...

"Lee, you need to let me vacuum out your car!"
I frowned. "Dude, no. My car is only vacuumed twice a year! Again, as long as it cranks and gets me from point A to point B, who gives a damn!"

Now here's the kicker... the one that really pissed me off...

"Girl, you need a new radio for your car!"


Okay, he had a point there. A month prior to this statement, I was rolling down I-75 heading to College Park, listening to New Birth's Been Such a Long Time. Apparently the bass on that song was too much for my speakers because I heard a loud bang.

My speakers had blown out. (I turned around to look, expecting to see smoke or something after the loud bang.) So I was reduced to the music coming from the passenger side speaker. I was cool with this, though. I use to have a '73 Nova with a boot leg Mexican brand cassette deck and a house speaker swinging from the dashboard of the passenger side of my car, and um, I dealt with it.

Bottom line: I didn't give a damn. As long as my car would crank up and get me where I was going? Whatever. I didn't care to rush out and buy a new stereo and speakers, even though I'm a music fanatic. (Ya'll know how I am about making bootleg CDs). This would have been important when I was in my early 20's or something. I am too old for that ish now.

Well apparently Tiny noticed this when he was moving my car around, and became increasingly annoyed with me.

I would leave the back garage door open just in case he needed to get some water or use the bathroom. But he would come in the house and harass me. Usually, I'll be sitting on the couch pecking away on my laptop, in deep concentration, working away on my manuscript.

Tiny would come stomping through the kitchen.

"Dang girl, you sure do type a lot!"

*LadyLee peering at Tiny over her eyeglasses, silently pissed about being interrupted*

"Um, yeah," is my lone response. I go back to typing.

So for a few days, I had to hear him whine about how I needed a new stereo and speakers for my car.

"Lee, you need a new stereo and speakers!"

*LadyLee wishing he would shut the hell up and go back outside. LadyLee silently wondering to herself how she could clock him upside the head with the vase of fresh flowers sitting lovingly on the coffee table without making a complete and utter mess*

"No, dude, I'm cool! I'm good. It's all good."

"But Lee, how the heck do you ride around like that!?"
"Dude, it's cool. I'm cool. It ain't that big a deal. And I don't see the point of putting out cash for something frivolous like that."

I watch as he reaches down and pulls open my freezer and pulls out my ice cream. He rifles through the cabinents for a bowl and a spoon, but decides to just eat straight out of the carton... Humph... I wonder silently to myself if Shorty is getting a bit too comfortable.

"Lee, I can get you a nice Kenwood CD player and a set of new speakers, front and rear, for three hundred bucks. I can install it and everything."

I became a bit agitated. "No, Tiny... conversation over. Take your butt on back outside somewhere now." I went back to typing.

"Removable face, remote control, big wattage... you can get it all, and I know how to install it for you."

"Dude, didn't I say that I don't care?? Damn!"

He ignores me. "Look, I can get you one with mp3 capabilities."

I don't say anything, I just look at him. I try to give him that evil squint that my mama use to give me with when I was a child whenever I was acting up, hoping that he would go away.

It didn't work.

He places his hands on the back of the sofa. I am trying to figure out how to bust him in the head with my laptop without actually doing damage to my laptop. Or better yet, I'm looking for my cat Oscar-Tyrone so that I can snatch him up and sling him in Tiny's face. Maybe a few good scratches by an angry kitty will send Tiny running.

He looks at me waiting for me to say something. I ignore him and keep typing away on my laptop.

"LadyLee, do you know what that means?"

"No boy, and I don't care. I told you I'm not getting a new radio for my car."

"That means," he continues, "that you can get up to 200 songs on one CD. You can place a CD into that CD player and never have to change it."

***Crickets***

to be continued....