La Mesa What a Place-A!

My car's back at the mechanic's shop again in La Mesa, California. It's the third time the transmission is being worked on. The first time to rebuilt the transmission, which in retrospect I don't think needed to be rebuild. The second time was to re-rebuild it because after less than 1000 miles, it threw a bearing which destroyed several other parts and cracked the gear box. This time, the third time, it started making a whirring noise between 30 and 40 mph. No word yet on when it will be fixed.

Now for the sexy details. After dropping off the car Monday morning, and while waiting in front of the mechanic's shop for my friend to give me a ride to work, I heard someone stopped at a stoplight making a noise. I heard it subconsciously, but didn't take much notice of it because I was rummaging through my murse, looking for my cell phone. I heard it a couple more times. It was like a whippoorwill noise.

Now that I found my phone, the noise entered my conscious mind, and I looked up to see a black man in a pickup truck giving me the San Francisco eyes (as my friend Tilly likes to say). And this is in La Mesa. Not Hillcrest.

I turned around and meandered to a less visible spot. No, sir, those aren't the gears I wanted worked on.