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Pennies of Annoyance, No Pound of Cure
Jan. 9th, 2017 09:12 pmMy day on the frozen tundra began with JARVIS low on fuel. I got to the nearest station and discovered their outdoor card readers weren't working in this stupid cold; so I trudged into the Cage of Cigarettes and left my card, still not quite knowing how many gallons are needed to fill his tank. Went back out, pressed UNLEADED (aka the cheap shit) and found PLUS (aka probably several bucks more for even his small tank) was lit up. I holstered and reloaded. Still PLUS. So I went back in to ask if they were out of the cheap shit.
All I was greeted with was the woman in the cage saying, "Three cents." Yes, somehow in the process I'd run a microscopic particle of petrol out of the nozzle. I made a face, demanded my card back and took three pennies out of the Leavea/Takea tray. Finally filled up at Station the Second, where their card readers were also in a bad mood and ultimately rejected a third insert of my chipped card, but got it filled with an unchipped one. By late in the day, I checked the first debit card online and, sure enough, was charged for the three cents.
Goodbye, Felicia. Forever.
----
This would've been less annoying if my seemingly permanent winter cold hadn't ratcheted up into a sore throat and way more sneezing and snuffying before I even left the house. I don't think it's the same thing Eleanor got knocked down with last week, but it was just annoying enough to put me in a mood. Not helping, thereafter, were the following:
- Opening and emailing papers that came in on Saturday's mail run, which I refused to open because I knew they'd ruin my weekend. And they would have. Mostly I get along with all of my opponents, but this guy, who I've never met in person, just seems to have a major grudge about me and my client.
- Getting almost sideswiped on the 33 coming home from late-morning court. A clean miss, but I could feel the draft pushing JARVIS to the right in his lane as this idiot (in a cab, of course) continued his three-lane weave. Oddly, he didn't even continue on to the airport but got off at an earlier exit more associated with Buffalo's central collection of cemeteries. Hope your trip there is as quick as you want- as long as it's one-way.
- Not finding out that another opponent, who had over three weeks to file responding papers that were due today, finally filed them online until they did so past 5:30 this afternoon. Yes, that's within the rules but it's very bad form.
- Also getting a late email in response to my seemingly successful real-estating, in which THAT opponent- who really isn't an opponent as such but just the previous seller of a property we're now financing- didn't choose either of the two reasonable alternatives I proposed for solving an issue over a mortgage payoff, but essentially asked me to become a divorce lawyer and renegotiate an entire separation agreement between his client and mine. Ain't gonna happen, bro.
Fortunately, my midday was saved by two nice encounters. One was getting an email from the singer Jen Chapin in response to my emailing her yesterday. I'd just found out, during our Sunday Parp! run, that one of our regulars helps book folk concerts at a local venue- and that they were still looking for headliners for March and April dates. Most performers book way further out than that, but Jen sounded receptive, especially if she could find another venue on her way from Long Island to make a multi-gig trip out of it.
I also got to convey this news to the hearing officer on my pre-almost-sideswipe court appearance. M. is one of the nicest and brightest guys I ever get to deal with, and he was patient and kind with my hardscrabble clients and really made them feel good about how the process works and is going so far. I've seen him at a couple of the shows at this folk venue, and he sounded pleased to hear that I might have helped them fill a date on their calendar.
The day then ended with the second Sherlock, which deserves its own post and a fair piece of hallucinogens to fully understand. Oh well, it is what it is.
All I was greeted with was the woman in the cage saying, "Three cents." Yes, somehow in the process I'd run a microscopic particle of petrol out of the nozzle. I made a face, demanded my card back and took three pennies out of the Leavea/Takea tray. Finally filled up at Station the Second, where their card readers were also in a bad mood and ultimately rejected a third insert of my chipped card, but got it filled with an unchipped one. By late in the day, I checked the first debit card online and, sure enough, was charged for the three cents.
Goodbye, Felicia. Forever.
----
This would've been less annoying if my seemingly permanent winter cold hadn't ratcheted up into a sore throat and way more sneezing and snuffying before I even left the house. I don't think it's the same thing Eleanor got knocked down with last week, but it was just annoying enough to put me in a mood. Not helping, thereafter, were the following:
- Opening and emailing papers that came in on Saturday's mail run, which I refused to open because I knew they'd ruin my weekend. And they would have. Mostly I get along with all of my opponents, but this guy, who I've never met in person, just seems to have a major grudge about me and my client.
- Getting almost sideswiped on the 33 coming home from late-morning court. A clean miss, but I could feel the draft pushing JARVIS to the right in his lane as this idiot (in a cab, of course) continued his three-lane weave. Oddly, he didn't even continue on to the airport but got off at an earlier exit more associated with Buffalo's central collection of cemeteries. Hope your trip there is as quick as you want- as long as it's one-way.
- Not finding out that another opponent, who had over three weeks to file responding papers that were due today, finally filed them online until they did so past 5:30 this afternoon. Yes, that's within the rules but it's very bad form.
- Also getting a late email in response to my seemingly successful real-estating, in which THAT opponent- who really isn't an opponent as such but just the previous seller of a property we're now financing- didn't choose either of the two reasonable alternatives I proposed for solving an issue over a mortgage payoff, but essentially asked me to become a divorce lawyer and renegotiate an entire separation agreement between his client and mine. Ain't gonna happen, bro.
Fortunately, my midday was saved by two nice encounters. One was getting an email from the singer Jen Chapin in response to my emailing her yesterday. I'd just found out, during our Sunday Parp! run, that one of our regulars helps book folk concerts at a local venue- and that they were still looking for headliners for March and April dates. Most performers book way further out than that, but Jen sounded receptive, especially if she could find another venue on her way from Long Island to make a multi-gig trip out of it.
I also got to convey this news to the hearing officer on my pre-almost-sideswipe court appearance. M. is one of the nicest and brightest guys I ever get to deal with, and he was patient and kind with my hardscrabble clients and really made them feel good about how the process works and is going so far. I've seen him at a couple of the shows at this folk venue, and he sounded pleased to hear that I might have helped them fill a date on their calendar.
The day then ended with the second Sherlock, which deserves its own post and a fair piece of hallucinogens to fully understand. Oh well, it is what it is.