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[personal profile] hrj
I had a notion to pop over to SF Macy's to pick up another piece in my china pattern today, and rather than my usual brunch place over there, I decided to get off BART at the Embarcadero station and take in the Ferry Building farmer's market, where I had a nice cheese scone and coffee from Peets. Lots of nice eats to shop for, but not that I wanted to haul around all day up to Union Square. Walked up from there to Macy's and, on a whim based on something I remembered from yesterday's Macy's ad, went up to the top floor to check out the recliners, since they were on sale for nearly half off. (I have a Christmas gift coupon good for a recliner that I need to redeem one of these years.) Now, the problem with shopping for recliners is that you can't always tell how comfortable it is just by sitting for a few minutes -- you need to know how comfortable you're going to be when you get back up out of it after half an hour. And there I was with plenty of time and a mostly unread SF Chronicle, so after some initial try-outs, I settled in, leaned back, and opened up the paper. When I explained my plan to the saleswoman, she grinned and said she'd be back later. Well, it held up to the task, so I ordered one with a delivery date at the end of Septermber (in hopes that my living room will be ready for it by then). As it turned out, the saleswoman and I bonded over a shared china pattern, which makes me even gladder that I hunted her up to take the order. (Since they get commissions, I figured she had first dibs … especially since she had just the right technique for me: acknowledge my presence immediately then be willing to leave me alone till I want her.)

So I get back to Macarthur BART in the east bay to discover that my car battery is dead. Dead, dead, dead. Not even a little turn-over, just two clicks and then not even that. I find this very suspicious since it didn’t have any battery problems before I had it in the shop (and had driven it less than 10 miles since I picked it up from them). So I found a yellow pages and started calling tow-company numbers until I found someone willing to come out and give me a jump. The car starts up with no problem; he waits around for 5 minutes to make sure it's ok (and to fill out the paperwork). And then just as I see the truck disappering out of the BART parking lot, the motor dies again. Not stalls, just stops. No battery. I phone the tow company immediately and the catch the truck before he gets too far away. So now the car is sitting outside the Broadway Ford service department, with a key in their drop-box. The tow guy said it sounded like they might have left something disconnected in the alternator after working on it. I'm willing to believe that I might need a new battery, but I'm not willing to believe that it would crap out that instantaneously.

After that, there was really only one thing to do to finish off the day:

Snakes.
On a plane.
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