Grimace the MiniVan
1992-2004
R.I.P.
If all the King's men at the Toyota dealership can put Mr. Griamce back together again he will be reborn and redubbed with a luckier name.
He conked out at exactly the right place. Right where my SEIU canvassers needed to be dropped off. Naturally, they refused to leave Grimaces cozy confines until someone else came and gave them a cell phone for their new driver. So I had two women (Cora and Erlan) yelling at me in a nearly unintelligible Trinidadian patois scribbling cell phone numbers and lecturing me on why I need to get my car serviced (I had an appointment for tomorrow. Now I'll have to get it towed tomorrow.). Stan, this awesome local guy who's half-way adopted the Dean interns, bringing us bagels in the morning and buying us beers at night, came out for no good reason. He helped me calm down the nervous unionists and get them on their way, but it was the tow-truck guy who was actually useful. We had to snake Grimace around and through several back streets and parking lots before wiggling him into a space in our back lot where he now rests. The regional director gave me the keys to her car and I raced out to pick up my first pair of canvassers (Rodney and Ellen) who had to go to the bathroom. I pull out and my RD's fucking Pionneer CD player starts playing this shitty shitty radio station and doing this little 3-d techno graphics thing on the LCD display. Of course there's no indication of how to turn the damn thing off and so as I'm rushing out to get Rodney to a John I'm trying to turn off this stupid thing and, well, we've all seen that episode of DateLine. I run a stop sign, go the wrong way down a one-way (has anyone noticed a pattern) and the Nashua Po-Po flag me down, make fun of my Cali plates (I'm not from Cali, mind you) and tells me to get the hell out of there. For those keeping score, I've been involved in three pull-overs, and gotten exactly three verbal warnings.
Anyway, Rodney ended up getting to the bathroom and Cora and Erlan got cups of hot chili for getting stuck with the shitmobile driver. The SEIU people totally fucking rocked. They were a lot better at spreading Dean's message than we normally are. They contrasted nicely with the wing-tipped Clark canvassers and the Trust-fund kids in Kerry's camp. We found tons of "ones" today and I'm feeling a lot better about our chances. The only thing that would make me feel even better is Grimace's pheonix-like revival tomorrow. But regardless, I got the smack down from the IT guy for being AWOL during some big internet switchover thingy. No more road trips for me it seems. I don't know how these fuckers are ever going to get things from Manch or set up our offsite phone banks. I think as long as those trips are related to techy issues (e.g. I have to get toner up to Manch and bring phone-line couplers back down soon.) I'll be fine.
Sleep deprivation has set in severely. With no car, I'm at the mercy of other drivers who tend to work hella late. I mean wicked late. Today I was apparently snoring with my eyes open on the couch. Freeky-deeky. I'm sleeping for real tonight and taking strategic naps tomorrow. I don't give a fuck. We're all heading out to Portsmouth to catch the Gov's triumphant homecoming at two AM on Tuesday.
Who's that old school British diarist guy? And so, to bed...