Nick's Journal
2007-04-28 17:47:51 (UTC)

NOW I know where the spare tire is on a Nissan Quest Minivan

there are few pleasures in life. one of those is breaking
85 in a minivan while swerving in and out of lanes on a busy
highway. yes that's right, this austrian who was once
described by a certain crack cow as the "most dangerous
driver out there" had his hands on a Nissan Quest Minivan.
not his own mind you, but that of his sister-in-law's
sister's. why does this honorable austrian have a minivan?
because this austrian's albino rat needed to travel via
Alaska Air Cargo (again).
things didn't start out that well. i got the car with a
completely empty tank (heather swore she hadn't planned it
and told me that, "you better dare not fill it're
just a poor college boy!") so i had to go to the nearest gas
statoin. and as i watched that van guzzle gas and as i kept
my eyes on the dollar amount making sure it doesn't exceed
the $5 i had in my pocket i realized to my dismay that i was
instead watching the gallon quantity counter and had
currently converted approximatrely $10.36 into heather's car.
i frantically pulled out the leather buffalo engraved money
clip i had gotten from juli's brothers (whole different
journal entry, let's just say it's great to pay for a drip
coffee at starbucks and pull that bitch out in front of a
hippie) $8.
no credit cards, so much for dispelling the "poor college
boy" image. i went into the gas station with my head hung
"Pump 7"
"I have $8 and a Starbucks gift card."
now was not a time for humor.
"man, that money's gonna come out of my pocket!"
"no no, here, here's my license, i will be right back with
the $2.36."
so with that i left the creepy dude with a diamond earring
and jelled up hair who looked to be about 110 and was
definitely wearing mascara and lipstick.
there i was standing in front of Heather with the following
"Can I borrow $2.36?"
she laughed and gave me the cash with which i made the
beeline to the gas station again.
"Great, good, cos you know. I can't pay for your gas, I
mean i gotta reimburse for every drive-off..."
adn after listening to a man with mascara's story about how
he doesn't make enough to cover the gas bills of deadbeats i
was on the open road. the radio was horrible at getting
reception but finally "maggie may" by rod stewart came on.
i put the pedal to the medal as i drove to my home.
the next morning i chauffered Harold to the airport. it was
5:30 am when i approached the Alaska Air Cargo facility. at
the counter was a girl that was way too hot to be working
for Alaska Air Cargo.
there was one major problem with me getting my rat upon the
air cargo plane. that being that i didn't have a certified
health certificate from a verterinarian. now we're talkinga
bout a 2 1/2 year old rat. i'm not taking that thing to a
vert. i'll give you a quick bill of health for him. he's
alive and i'm alive...therefore no infectious diseases.
i was working the girl at the front counter like orlando
bloom when "stick up his ass" murphy came along.
murphy was the secondd guy within 24 i had seen with an
earring, eerily his had a pearl in it.
anyhow, he had the burly statutre of a warehouse dude and
stared at my little harold.
"what's that? a mouse?"
"a rat."
"a rat? a rat?" he sat back musing the intricacies of
sending a fancy rat via air cargo.
"he got a bill of health?"
"yeah he's 2 1/2 and he's partially paralyzed."
"no, from a veterinarian."
"absolutely not."
"well then there is absolutely no way he will be transported
by this airline."
and now normally i would have probably admimtted defeat here
at a younger age, but there was no fucking way i was leaving
with this rat again. so did what lawyers do best. i lied
and bullshitted my way through, threw out accussations, and
threatened legal action.
in summary these are teh arguments i made to an increasingly
flustered 'murphy'. fancy rats are not covered under the
animal welfare act as enacted by the usda (the governing
regulation for the bill oof health). fancy rats are wild
animals which can not transfer diseases to domesticated
animals. fancy rats are not contagious to humans. fancy
rats over two years of age have such weakened immune systems
that they are incapable of warding off an infectious assault
thus causing their death within 2 hours (which is why
laboratories use elderly fancy rats in their cancer
studies...cos they die so quickly). finally i asked murphy
how many other animals were being transferred on harold's
plane...whether or not he had a vagina and was afraid of a
little rat. that i knew that alaska airline wasn't doing
well and i was about to give them $160 to put a fucking rat
into a cargo space and nothing more. that i wasn't given a
hard hat even though i was told to enter the warehouse
facility to book my rat's flight, which i wasn't sure but
might be a safety violation code.
so there i stood vis a vis murphy and the chick way too hot
to be working at alaska air cargo (who i believe had
pantomimed that she wanted to sleep with me during my tirade).
"fine. just make sure the food and watering bill is on the
and with that murphy walked away and i was victorious!
there i was rollin' down the highway at 6:03 a.m. when led
zeppelin's "whole lotta love" started fading in and out. i
cranked up the radio and rolled on back to heather's feeling
as triumphant i'd ever felt. but shit was not to be good.
by the time i turned onto a residential street i noticed a
no. absolutely not. no. a fucking flat tire.
i got out of the car, walked around and stared at the tire,
comopletely done. i stared up at the sky and smiled, god
was smiling back at me.
so there i was at 6:15 am frantically looking all over the
car for the fucking spare tire. i couldn't find nit
anywhere! worse than that i couldn't find the owner's
manual! the only shit i could find was a bunch of nasty
half eaten peanut butter sandwhiches (they have two young
kids) a bunch of children's toys and baby wipes. by 7 am i
was so pissed that i couldn't figure out where the tire was
and i finally gave up and figured they didn't have one.
so i called jay.
after asking him where it was (he had no idea) or where the
owner's manual was (he also had no idea) he told me that he
was coming to get me and help me. i finally found hte
manual. my phone was shot so i couldn't call him back.
you know where the spare tire is?
under the car. you get it out by using the lug wrench on a
screw onder the carpet of the trunk of the minivan and it
lowers the tire.
now i know.