This was the worst day of the year for me!
The day started out with a LAPD officer threatening to write me a ticket for sitting on the sidewalk.
On Friday, I had checked with an auto shop about the cost of a tune up for my 96 Buick Century. They told me it would be $49.00. I was thrilled because someone else had quoted me $150.00 dollars. This morning, when I talked to them they informed me that they had failed to include the price of parts so the price would be $100.00 plus tax. I explained that I was jobless and homeless, and needed to know the exact amount. They assured me that this price was correct. Later, when I brought my car in for the tune up, they asked me to sign a blank piece of paper for the repairs.
"What happened to $100.00 plus tax?" I inquired.
"Well, we do not know how much labor will be?" They shrugged. With labor charge of $75.00 per hour, I had no way to figure out the total. I only had $150.00. I have no idea what the $49.00 charge was for since parts and labor or separate. Furious about being baited and switched not once but twice, I flew out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Never to return. Certain to tell everyone I meet about this band of thieves.
A month or so ago, I had gone to this auto shop on Santa Monica Boulevard. He knew of my plight and told me he would be sure to take care of me. I decided to check out his price but he wanted to charge me $89.00 for a diagnostic check and the tune up would be somewhere from $100.00 to 500.00 dollars. Take care of me? This guy wanted to take me to the cleaners! I will spare you of what the cleaners charge you here in California. Suffice it to say, I know where the expression originated.
There is no place like home. Therefore, my car coughed and rattled it's way back where I park it for a week at a time. My space was gone. There is now no parking. Driving around in traffic, I soon realized how thankful I am not to have to drive anymore. Fortunately, I found the nice little old man with the cute little dog who told me he would do the tune up for $150.00. We took the car to his garage. Thank God I no longer needed to look for a parking spot.
Dropping the car off and walking to my meeting, I suddenly needed to urinate. The restaurant that I had text to seven times for a job with never a reply for an interview had just had a grand opening. They informed me that the restrooms are only available for customers. Walking across the street, I decided to use the alley and relieve myself by the dumpster. Never try this at home kids if the establishment happens to be a marijuana store. A security guard comes flying out and tells me that I am on camera and they are calling the LAPD on me. The security guard goes to confine me and I tell him if he touches me that I will sue him. Believe it or not, the homeless do have rights. I apologize profusely and promise never to repeat the incident. I ask, "What is a homeless person suppose to do? Your establishment would not allow me to use your facility?"
The owner does not say a word. He just waves the security guard off of me.
Group therapy was an emotional rollercoaster as they hit a nerve.
We exchanged war stories of being homeless. Mine is mild in comparison to one of my friend's. He was ticketed at 2:00 am for sleeping on the sidewalk. Several days later, he was ticketed by the same police officer for the same offense at a different location. Several weeks later, he was ticketed and arrested by the same officer for the same offense and for the warrant for not paying the first offense. The judge sentenced him to seven days at LA County Prison to pay off his three tickets. Does this make any sense? The only good news is that my friend was not homeless for seven days and was given three meals a day. Is this the solution for homelessness?
Returning to claim my car, the nice little old man with the cute little dog informs me that he has to charge me more money for the tune up. The parts cost more than he thought and it took him more time than he thought. What am I suppose to do? Susan Molenda was kind enough to give me $50.00. My girl friend from college, Janice Grady had given me a gift of $100.00 so that I would be able to repair my car. Now where I am suppose to find the rest of the money. Tim Page had given me $20.00 to put towards my phone bill. Being that the phone bill had been paid, I had intended to have Tim's money be the first donation for my documentary. Tim said I could use the money for whatever I needed. Looks like I need to put the documentary on the backburner while I go to pay for my tune up.
This is taking too long...
Next, I drove around looking for a parking spot.
Now with an empty gas tank and a fixed automobile, I finally find a spot, only to see the nice little old man with the cute little dog switching out car batteries. Did he replace my brand new battery with one of his?
The night only got worse when I was stopped by the LAPD for walking with a friend on Santa Monica Boulevard. Since my friend was black, he assumed that this white boy was either buying drugs or picking up a prostitute?
Welcome to Hollywood!
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