I had a nice (well, actually, pretty crappy) old '65 Mustang once, that got ripped off from the Fruitvale BART station and left stripped a few blocks away. To get it moving again, I had to seek out a Mustang parts dealer. I found just the thing: he was a moonlighting junior high school teacher, with a contented grin. Grumpy Old Bookman has a similar experience, with the assistance of Her Majesty's Customs.
Afterthought: Grumpy Old Bookman really has to meet my pal, The New York Crank. They could make beautiful music together.
2 comments:
Sorry, I don't get it. What's a BART station? And in what way is this story like the one about GOB's naughty comics?
Whoopee, a real reader, not friends and family. Happy to try to clarify.
BART=San Francisco dialect for subway, underground, metro.
Common thread=I think both GOB and I suspect we are paying to buy our own stuff back from the guy who stole it from us.
BTW in preparing this response I learned that:
"The Stockholm subway system today consists of 100 stations, of which about half are situated underground."
If it's overground, isn't it a superway?
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