My headlight was out. On my last Saab, I tried changing the bulb and found it very very fiddly and time consuming. I never managed to do the funky clip back up, and ended up putting a piece of tape on the back of the bulb to try to hold it in place. So this time, I went right to the experts at Swedish Car Center.
When Hakan popped the hood and reached his hand into the skinny gap behind the headlight, I told him I wanted to watch what he did so I could learn. He laughed. "It's really hard on these cars," he said, which made me feel less inept. If even a Saab mechanic thinks its hard, then it really much be tricky. And there just wasn't enough space to see what he was doing. Even he couldn't see; he did it by feel. And it took 30 minutes. So yeah, I don't feel so bad now.
Right next door is what used to be my favourite thrift store, when they had a large one in my neck of the woods. One of the workers there became unusually attracted to me over a period of time. He always called me Pretty Lady. I used to joke to Josh about it, referring to the guy as Javier. It turned out that his name really was Javier! And he was pretty devastated when he found out I was married. Sadly, they closed that branch down and the one here, near my mechanics, isn’t nearly as good. I wonder whatever happened to Javier …
I was pretty bemused by this mannequin sporting only a plastic necklace. Seems like a waste of a good body, ya know? She is severely underdressed, even for Venice Beach.
While Hakan fiddled with my headlights, I stood in a big blob of gooey gum. Those that have lived with me know that I have zero tolerance for gum. I freakin’ hate the stuff. And this is why.
After work I went to an industry event at the Beverly Hilton. These photos were taken inside the parking structure.
Pretty cool, huh?
I felt like such a celebrity when I walked back to the elevator and was greeted with this poster on the end wall. What, it’s not me they’re adulating?