It was a good day for a bike ride yesterday.
Joel likes to bike up hills, as you can see from the pics he posted below. I hate biking up hills, but Keiko and I are attending a wedding in Cabo in June, and the problem with dating a former swimsuit model is that she looks really, really good in a swimsuit. That's a problem because when we're on the beach together, one of three things will happen:
1) [best case scenario] People will say: "Hey, what a nice looking couple."
2) [mediocre scenario] People will say: "Wow, that guy must be really rich."
3) [worst case scenario] People will say: "How pathetic that the pudgy balding guy felt he had to rent a date. I wonder how much she's costing him?"
As of today, Scenario 3 is the highest probability, so if I don't find a way to close the hotness gap at least somewhat in the next 2.5 months, I'm going to suffer undue scorn. Hence, agreeing to bike up a really fucking steep hill that goes on for like 500 miles. I nearly died going up it. The view from the top is nice though.
It's so miserably unfair that it's so easy to accumulate calories, and so goddamned hard to shed them.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
It doesn't pay to be cheap (or to be me)
Friday I had to go up to SF to check out an office there that we'll be using to see a client in the city. It's a pain to drive into the city and park, so I thought I'd take the handy BART system into town.
Normally I take the CalTrain if I need to go into SF, which means just leaving my car at the office and walking, but the BART station is much closer to the office building that was my final destination, so I thought I'd use that. But that necessitated driving to the Daly City BART station, which I'd never done before.
Upon arriving there, I was shocked to discover that it costs $3 to park for the BART. To me, this was offensive. I mean, the point of public transport is to make it easy for me to use it. Don't fucking charge me to park. So I saw a nearby side street, and thought I'd check it out. I mean, I refuse to pay that stupid fee in principle if I can possibly avoid it.
A quick glance at the side street showed that there was a patch of curb available, so I quickly backed into the space. Now, this is exactly the sort of story that can end badly- person tries to save $3 and ends up getting screwed, so the first thing I did upon parking was to get out, walk down the driver's side in the street until I was in front of the parking signs, and then read them 3 times to make sure I was allowed to park here (i.e, not a residential permit area, not a streetcleaning day, etc.)
The signs clearly indicated that I was golden. I then walked back up along the driver's side, and doublechecked to make sure I'd locked the car. Don't want ol' Betsy to get stolen.
With that, I took my stuff, turned around, and walked down to the BART station, all the while thinking "I was VERY careful. I checked all possibilities. You're not getting me this time, fate. In your FACE, universe!"
So I took the BART up to SF, where we had a good meeting. Then I took the BART back, arriving at the Daly City BART station around 8pm. I walked over to where I'd parked the car.
And, it wasn't there.
Later, Laszlo asked me: "Did you feel a moment of panic?" The answer is, maybe for a nanosecond. But the benefit of being me is that panic is quickly drowned out by a feeling of inevitability. OF COURSE something like this happened. I knew there was a risk. I taunted fate. I thought I'd thought of everything. I should know better by now.
So, I went into problem-solving mode. The car is not there. There are really only 2 cases:
1) It was stolen.
2) It was towed.
So, I decided to survey the area for possible reasons it might have been towed. The signs still indicated it should have been OK to park. But a more thorough inspection of the specific place I parked yielded an observation that the patch of curb I parked on looked, upon closer scrutiny, like it was shorter than ol' Betsy, who is a GMC envoy with a trailer hitch, and therefore has a long, wide ass. And, upon closer inspection, the house I parked in front of had one of those built-in garages, largely obscured by the large overhanging tree in front, and it became possible to envision that person coming home, and finding ol' Betsy blocking 1/4 to 1/3 of his/her driveway. And that would probably lead to towing.
So I went up to the door and knocked, to try to get confirmation of this hypothesis. No answer. And, I have no idea what towing company might have been called. So, I had little choice but to get back on the BART. I had been scheduled to stay the night at Laszlo's anyway, for some video-game playing, since I had to be back at the office Saturday morning at 815am.
So I got on the BART and went to Millbrae. Cost of the BART ticket: $3.25.
From Millbrae, I called Laszlo, and with GA in the background saying "Oh god, what now?", he volunteered to pick me up at the San Antonio CalTrain stop. So I got on the CalTrain and headed to San Antonio. Cost of the CalTrain ticket: $4.25.
Laszlo picked me up, and we went to In N Out, which soothed my nerves a little. By the time we got home, we were both really too tired for video games, so we went to bed. Saturday morning, Laszlo lent me his car, and I went to work.
At work, while my students were taking their tests, I called the Daly City police department and confirmed that they had towed my car. The process to get it back was: show up at the police station with exactly $204 in cash- no checks, no credit cards, no change given, and they would give me a slip of paper I could take to the towing company to get my car back.
Unfortunately, the office at the police station is only open until noon on Saturdays, and not at all on Sundays, so given that I wasn't done proctoring tests until 1pm, the earliest time I was going to be able to get my car was Monday morning. At 1pm, I headed back to Laszlo's.
GA, displaying the kind of practical genius that if I had just one tenth of one percent of, would absolutely change my life forever, devised a plan whereby I would borrow Laszlo's car for the evening so I could go home, and then come back and stay the night Sunday night. Monday morning I could get a ride to the train station and go get my car. It was imperative, though, that I have a vehicle, since GA is due to give birth tomorrow, and I'm the backup scheduled to take care of Li and Em if she has to suddenly go to the hospital.
So, after an afternoon of running errands with Li and Laszlo, I borrowed the car and went home. It was nice to be home. I went for a long bike ride, and it was wonderful. A beautiful day at the beach.
The next day, after a grueling bike ride with Joel up to the top of one of the hills that overlooks the harbor (the view is absolutely spectacular, but I wanted to die by the time I got up there), I drove back over the hill to Laszlo's. I put gas in the car just before I got there. Cost of the gas: $20.
After a late night fighting evil locust hordes (Gears of War 2), we went to bed. This morning, GA dropped me off at the train station at 830am. No CalTrain until 903am. Cost of the CalTrain ticket to Millbrae: $4.25.
From Millbrae, I took the BART to Colma, which was the nearest station to the Daly City police department. Cost of the BART ticket: $3.25.
From Colma, I walked to the Daly City police department. It was a fairly easy process there; I just forked over my $204 cash and got my slip of paper, which helpfully had directions on the back for how to get to the towing place. So, I took a nice walk through the local decaying industrial area until I found the towing place. I was curious to see what ethnic group was running the local towing scam. In New England, for instance, it's the Italians. Here, it's pretty clearly the Mexicans.
I handed over my slip of paper, and the guy walked over to the calendar and started counting days: "1,2,3...4" and then looked at the chart of costs, and then said: "That'll be 535 dollars."
Trying not to visibly wince, I handed over my credit card. He started to run it, and then said:
"Wait, no, that's not right. What's $340 plus $75?"
"$415", I answered.
"Thanks man! It's 415 dollars." (pause) "No, no, that's not right either. What's $390 plus $75?"
(sighing) "$465", I answered.
"That's it! $465. Thanks man!"
"Sure," I muttered.
This, folks, is why we'll all someday be nannies, housekeepers, and janitors for Chinese and Indian middle and upper class families. Because they can fucking add by the time they're in their 30's.
In fairness, it was clear that $465 was the correct amount as indicated by the chart of costs hanging above the desks, assuming the $75 labor charge was accurate ($190 flat impound fee + $50/day * 4 calendar days + labor charge). What is not clear is whether he would have known any better if I'd said: "That all adds up to $135."
So, after paying the $465, I went onto the lot and found my car. I unlocked it, put my stuff in, and got behind the wheel. At last, I thought, it's all done.
And then I noticed the parking citation stuck to the window. Cost of the citation: $30.
It's funny how we go through life and often make decisions in the moment that don't seem particularly significant at the time, but turn out to have enormous downstream effects later. The butterfly effect, as it were. Here's a summary of the downstream effects of one moment's decision not to just suck it up and park in the goddamned parking lot like normal people:
BART ticket: $3.25
CalTrain ticket: $4.25
Gas: $20.00
CalTrain ticket: $4.25
BART ticket: $3.25
Police fee: $204.00
Towing fee: $465.00
Citation: $30.00
Dollars saved not parking at BART: $3.00
Total cost of standing on principle: $714.00
Total benefit of standing on principle: $3.00
Total benefit (loss) of standing on principle: ($711.00)
Many people agonize over what the purpose of their lives is, about what it all means. I don't. I've known for a very long time what the purpose of my life is. It's to be an example to others.
And I, my friends, am a good example of a bad example.
Normally I take the CalTrain if I need to go into SF, which means just leaving my car at the office and walking, but the BART station is much closer to the office building that was my final destination, so I thought I'd use that. But that necessitated driving to the Daly City BART station, which I'd never done before.
Upon arriving there, I was shocked to discover that it costs $3 to park for the BART. To me, this was offensive. I mean, the point of public transport is to make it easy for me to use it. Don't fucking charge me to park. So I saw a nearby side street, and thought I'd check it out. I mean, I refuse to pay that stupid fee in principle if I can possibly avoid it.
A quick glance at the side street showed that there was a patch of curb available, so I quickly backed into the space. Now, this is exactly the sort of story that can end badly- person tries to save $3 and ends up getting screwed, so the first thing I did upon parking was to get out, walk down the driver's side in the street until I was in front of the parking signs, and then read them 3 times to make sure I was allowed to park here (i.e, not a residential permit area, not a streetcleaning day, etc.)
The signs clearly indicated that I was golden. I then walked back up along the driver's side, and doublechecked to make sure I'd locked the car. Don't want ol' Betsy to get stolen.
With that, I took my stuff, turned around, and walked down to the BART station, all the while thinking "I was VERY careful. I checked all possibilities. You're not getting me this time, fate. In your FACE, universe!"
So I took the BART up to SF, where we had a good meeting. Then I took the BART back, arriving at the Daly City BART station around 8pm. I walked over to where I'd parked the car.
And, it wasn't there.
Later, Laszlo asked me: "Did you feel a moment of panic?" The answer is, maybe for a nanosecond. But the benefit of being me is that panic is quickly drowned out by a feeling of inevitability. OF COURSE something like this happened. I knew there was a risk. I taunted fate. I thought I'd thought of everything. I should know better by now.
So, I went into problem-solving mode. The car is not there. There are really only 2 cases:
1) It was stolen.
2) It was towed.
So, I decided to survey the area for possible reasons it might have been towed. The signs still indicated it should have been OK to park. But a more thorough inspection of the specific place I parked yielded an observation that the patch of curb I parked on looked, upon closer scrutiny, like it was shorter than ol' Betsy, who is a GMC envoy with a trailer hitch, and therefore has a long, wide ass. And, upon closer inspection, the house I parked in front of had one of those built-in garages, largely obscured by the large overhanging tree in front, and it became possible to envision that person coming home, and finding ol' Betsy blocking 1/4 to 1/3 of his/her driveway. And that would probably lead to towing.
So I went up to the door and knocked, to try to get confirmation of this hypothesis. No answer. And, I have no idea what towing company might have been called. So, I had little choice but to get back on the BART. I had been scheduled to stay the night at Laszlo's anyway, for some video-game playing, since I had to be back at the office Saturday morning at 815am.
So I got on the BART and went to Millbrae. Cost of the BART ticket: $3.25.
From Millbrae, I called Laszlo, and with GA in the background saying "Oh god, what now?", he volunteered to pick me up at the San Antonio CalTrain stop. So I got on the CalTrain and headed to San Antonio. Cost of the CalTrain ticket: $4.25.
Laszlo picked me up, and we went to In N Out, which soothed my nerves a little. By the time we got home, we were both really too tired for video games, so we went to bed. Saturday morning, Laszlo lent me his car, and I went to work.
At work, while my students were taking their tests, I called the Daly City police department and confirmed that they had towed my car. The process to get it back was: show up at the police station with exactly $204 in cash- no checks, no credit cards, no change given, and they would give me a slip of paper I could take to the towing company to get my car back.
Unfortunately, the office at the police station is only open until noon on Saturdays, and not at all on Sundays, so given that I wasn't done proctoring tests until 1pm, the earliest time I was going to be able to get my car was Monday morning. At 1pm, I headed back to Laszlo's.
GA, displaying the kind of practical genius that if I had just one tenth of one percent of, would absolutely change my life forever, devised a plan whereby I would borrow Laszlo's car for the evening so I could go home, and then come back and stay the night Sunday night. Monday morning I could get a ride to the train station and go get my car. It was imperative, though, that I have a vehicle, since GA is due to give birth tomorrow, and I'm the backup scheduled to take care of Li and Em if she has to suddenly go to the hospital.
So, after an afternoon of running errands with Li and Laszlo, I borrowed the car and went home. It was nice to be home. I went for a long bike ride, and it was wonderful. A beautiful day at the beach.
The next day, after a grueling bike ride with Joel up to the top of one of the hills that overlooks the harbor (the view is absolutely spectacular, but I wanted to die by the time I got up there), I drove back over the hill to Laszlo's. I put gas in the car just before I got there. Cost of the gas: $20.
After a late night fighting evil locust hordes (Gears of War 2), we went to bed. This morning, GA dropped me off at the train station at 830am. No CalTrain until 903am. Cost of the CalTrain ticket to Millbrae: $4.25.
From Millbrae, I took the BART to Colma, which was the nearest station to the Daly City police department. Cost of the BART ticket: $3.25.
From Colma, I walked to the Daly City police department. It was a fairly easy process there; I just forked over my $204 cash and got my slip of paper, which helpfully had directions on the back for how to get to the towing place. So, I took a nice walk through the local decaying industrial area until I found the towing place. I was curious to see what ethnic group was running the local towing scam. In New England, for instance, it's the Italians. Here, it's pretty clearly the Mexicans.
I handed over my slip of paper, and the guy walked over to the calendar and started counting days: "1,2,3...4" and then looked at the chart of costs, and then said: "That'll be 535 dollars."
Trying not to visibly wince, I handed over my credit card. He started to run it, and then said:
"Wait, no, that's not right. What's $340 plus $75?"
"$415", I answered.
"Thanks man! It's 415 dollars." (pause) "No, no, that's not right either. What's $390 plus $75?"
(sighing) "$465", I answered.
"That's it! $465. Thanks man!"
"Sure," I muttered.
This, folks, is why we'll all someday be nannies, housekeepers, and janitors for Chinese and Indian middle and upper class families. Because they can fucking add by the time they're in their 30's.
In fairness, it was clear that $465 was the correct amount as indicated by the chart of costs hanging above the desks, assuming the $75 labor charge was accurate ($190 flat impound fee + $50/day * 4 calendar days + labor charge). What is not clear is whether he would have known any better if I'd said: "That all adds up to $135."
So, after paying the $465, I went onto the lot and found my car. I unlocked it, put my stuff in, and got behind the wheel. At last, I thought, it's all done.
And then I noticed the parking citation stuck to the window. Cost of the citation: $30.
It's funny how we go through life and often make decisions in the moment that don't seem particularly significant at the time, but turn out to have enormous downstream effects later. The butterfly effect, as it were. Here's a summary of the downstream effects of one moment's decision not to just suck it up and park in the goddamned parking lot like normal people:
BART ticket: $3.25
CalTrain ticket: $4.25
Gas: $20.00
CalTrain ticket: $4.25
BART ticket: $3.25
Police fee: $204.00
Towing fee: $465.00
Citation: $30.00
Dollars saved not parking at BART: $3.00
Total cost of standing on principle: $714.00
Total benefit of standing on principle: $3.00
Total benefit (loss) of standing on principle: ($711.00)
Many people agonize over what the purpose of their lives is, about what it all means. I don't. I've known for a very long time what the purpose of my life is. It's to be an example to others.
And I, my friends, am a good example of a bad example.
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