A discussion about how old people can make money with some insurance thing.
PERSON1: Yeah, my mom was a candidate for it. Still doing great too, and she’s 50 grand richer.
PERSON2: My mom could qualify but there’s no way she would go for a financial thing she didn’t understand.
BOB: We had to hold my mother down and pound six holly stakes through her heart. We used young Nubian boys. Actually they were from Asbury Park, they were just dressed as young Nubian boys.
Tell him to gimme a call! Collect, or pay phone, or whatever. His prepaid phone is dead and has the cheery message saying I should call again later.
I guess they decided that prepaid phones were “urban” because the error message guy sounds like Will Smith.
Or tell Bob I’ll be at BG tonight, and he can have a ride if he wants. He can’t ride his WHIZZER right now so I want to make sure he gets out of the house, gets food, etc.
Bob Trout has a computer.
I met with Bob at Kean today so I could order a new automatic clutch for his Whizzer. (No, really!)
The patio was packed with moms and babies because the new expensive baby food store was having a grand opening Halloween event.
“Expensive baby food store” falls short of the mark. “Pomme Bébé” looks at first to be a high-end salon, art gallery, and Apple Store in one spot. Whiteness gleams tastefully. Sheer ivory surfaces, smock-clad employees, menu of the day in the style of an ice cream store. They sell organic and otherwise perfect food for infants.
So as Bob and I ordered bike parts on the Internet and bullshitted and played with his dog Mancha, this river of super-rich mothers flowed. They were all 20 and perfect forever, and their babies were all 6 months old and perfect forever. The baby carriages themselves were worth more than my car. They stretch across the sidewalk and have racks and racks of toys clacking above their passengers. More than a few were double wides with twin skulls bobbling in them.
Mancha slumped on our feet in a heavily adoring way and we skritched him. My iced tea was good.
Middle class retail is so dead now.
Bob and I went on an expotition yesterday to get him some clothes. Off to Adventure 16 we went! He needed some swim trunks from Patagonia and a jacket and pants thing from Sierra Design that folds up into its own bag.
Because it’s September, the store had no swim trunks. They’re still in the Patagonia catalog, however. We asked if they could order them for us, and they indicated that this might be possible. They all stood there looking uncomfortable; we were the only customers in the store. It was clear that they just wanted us to leave.
One employee did find a jacket (but no pants) of the folds-into-its-own bag line. We again asked if they could be ordered for store delivery and there was another uncomfortable silence with mumbling. The manager had his back to us most of the time and was on the phone otherwise, and fiddling with pieces of paper.
We left. Expotition: failed.
Today we met at Panera and I fired up the laptop. The Patagonia website had the swim trunks he wanted at half price, $18 instead of $36. We got him three pair. The Sierra Designs site had the pants he wanted and referred us to the REI site, where we bought those as well.
The REI site wanted us to go to a store to pick up the stuff, and pointed out it was FREE! shipping this way. So we clicked that button, only to find out that “items for store pickup may have an extended delivery time compared to mail delivery.” Clearly they just wait for your item to show up in the regular weekly shipments and then at some time you get a phone call. Fuck that. We spent the shipping charge for Internet order.
When I was a kid, there were lots of stores. We had department stores, toy stores, specialty hobby stores, hardware stores, discount stores, all kinds! Some of the stores were in malls and others were not. Not all of them were chains.
That’s just gone now. The department stores were eaten by the big box chains. Same with toys and hardware. The discount stores became the big box stores. Everything is a chain.
Now it’s all poor folks or rich folks, no bourgeois. The middle-class shopping experience has disappeared. If you have a shitload of money you can go to Nordstrom or Neiman Marcus or some boutique place like Restoration Hardware and blow five bills on a few things. If not, you’re going to Target or Wal-Mart.
Bob is 60 so he finds this incomprehensible. But he likes the Internet. Click, click, done. He gave me $140 in cash to buy his shit with my laptop and then we had iced tea and bullshitted.
And so Justin is back to Greenville, hoping to come back soon. He’s got the California bug.
Mancha has stopped trying to kill me and decided I’m friendly but boring. This took about 30 seconds, like last time.
Welcome back, Bob.
At the gas station filling up pre rental return. This afternoon I’m taking his driver, Justin, to the airport to send him back to Nowhere, NC. He wants to move here.
Bob found a place to live in Mesa Verde with an old lady who loves dogs, regulates the neighborhood, and is a serious activist. That was quick and welcome! He’s so happy to be back. I have his new cellphone for whomever wants it.
He has a visit today to a lady with an extra room and a dog friendly yard in Mesa Verde. Wish him luck!
He’s also very grateful for the offers of dog boardage from a few of you; we hope none of that will be necessary. Only dog problem so far has been a bit of gnawing revenge on the Motel 6’s bedclothes when he was left alone too long.
for reference:
Bob is in the Motel 6 at Harbor and the Freeway. I’m taking his ride to the airport on Sunday. We have a “date” tomorrow in which I will attempt to drive him around town in a car way too small for Bob and myself and a dog and help me get stuff he needs.
If anyone else is interested and has a bigger vehicle that would be cool, because I’m a little worried about the whole PACKED IN TIGHT thing. But it’ll happen.
He’s in search of some kind of living space. His needs are simple: a flat place to pitch a tent in a dog friendly environment. Sadly I can provide neither. Keep an eye out, people!
I assume that if someone can take care of the dog for a while it would be easier for him to find living space sooner, which might be good considering the cost of the motel. He has an income, but it’s not grand.
WELCOME BACK BOB! I have his number at the motel if anyone needs it.
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