AZ Lawman
Member
I drove from my home near Payson AZ to downtown Phoenix last night. A good friend had blown a radiator hose, and was stranded in the parking lot of a Circle K at the corner of 3rd Ave and Osborn. Not a great neighborhood by any stretch of the imagination, but not a war zone as much of central Phoenix can be. It was after 11:00pm, and the closest 24-hour Auto Zone I knew of was almost 7 miles from where he was.
On the way, I hit the Auto Zone and picked up an upper and lower radiator hose, coolant, and new hose clamps to save time so we could get headed home.
I got to the parking lot, and got myself a cup of coffee. We broke out my travel toolbox and started working on the hoses. Dave's truck was parked close to, but not blocking the air pump, under one of the big parking lot lights. There was a liberal amount of cussing as one of the screw heads on one of the old clamps broke, and I had to ferdingle it off with needle nose pliers. It wasn't a huge problem, but it was aggravating. While I was working on the upper hose, Dave was under the truck pulling and replacing the lower hose, so he wasn't easily visible.
While we were engaged in our parking lot auto repair, a busted up looking, primer covered, 1982 or 83 Olds Cutlass with about $6,000 worth of tires and rims, and Lord only knows how much the stereo cost, came bumping into the parking lot. There were three men in it. It was playing very loud, very filthy rap garbage. It pulled over near the air hose, and the driver started cussing me to "Move your <deleted> truck white boy."
"It'll just be a couple more minutes...can't start it right now. It's almost done."
"Den push da <deleted> white boy."
I just ignored him, and moved around to the side of the truck where the fender, and wheel were between me and the Cutlass. It made the work a bit more awkward, but I liked having the cinder block wall to my back.
"Ain't you heard me? I said push the <deleted> truck cracker!"
I continued to ignore him. We had less than five minutes worth of work to do and we'd be on our way, and I wasn't going to buy into his showing out BS. I just kept working and told Dave to do the same thing.
Finally after a couple more minutes, I had the top hose on, and Dave was tightening the bottom hose. I started filling the radiator with coolant.
The driver of the Cutlass and his two pals got out of the Cutlass, all seriously puffed up and running their mouths.
"<deleted> why you disrespectin' me? You want some?" and so on and so on.
Dave slid out from under the truck and popped up on my side. I finished pouring in the coolant, and topped it off with water.
Apparently three to two was pushing the l
On the way, I hit the Auto Zone and picked up an upper and lower radiator hose, coolant, and new hose clamps to save time so we could get headed home.
I got to the parking lot, and got myself a cup of coffee. We broke out my travel toolbox and started working on the hoses. Dave's truck was parked close to, but not blocking the air pump, under one of the big parking lot lights. There was a liberal amount of cussing as one of the screw heads on one of the old clamps broke, and I had to ferdingle it off with needle nose pliers. It wasn't a huge problem, but it was aggravating. While I was working on the upper hose, Dave was under the truck pulling and replacing the lower hose, so he wasn't easily visible.
While we were engaged in our parking lot auto repair, a busted up looking, primer covered, 1982 or 83 Olds Cutlass with about $6,000 worth of tires and rims, and Lord only knows how much the stereo cost, came bumping into the parking lot. There were three men in it. It was playing very loud, very filthy rap garbage. It pulled over near the air hose, and the driver started cussing me to "Move your <deleted> truck white boy."
"It'll just be a couple more minutes...can't start it right now. It's almost done."
"Den push da <deleted> white boy."
I just ignored him, and moved around to the side of the truck where the fender, and wheel were between me and the Cutlass. It made the work a bit more awkward, but I liked having the cinder block wall to my back.
"Ain't you heard me? I said push the <deleted> truck cracker!"
I continued to ignore him. We had less than five minutes worth of work to do and we'd be on our way, and I wasn't going to buy into his showing out BS. I just kept working and told Dave to do the same thing.
Finally after a couple more minutes, I had the top hose on, and Dave was tightening the bottom hose. I started filling the radiator with coolant.
The driver of the Cutlass and his two pals got out of the Cutlass, all seriously puffed up and running their mouths.
"<deleted> why you disrespectin' me? You want some?" and so on and so on.
Dave slid out from under the truck and popped up on my side. I finished pouring in the coolant, and topped it off with water.
Apparently three to two was pushing the l
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