I got the truck back on the exact right day, for better and for worse.<\/p>\n
For worse, I got nothing out of the truly witless and half-ass “inspection” except a battery, a high-beam bulb, a bill for five hundred bucks, and a visible reluctance on their part to further care about an old truck at any price. A follow-up talk-only visit to the Dealership was almost as bad, except it was free, and one earthy old bitch in Service (she used the word on herself, in a public cackle, so I’m blameless) mentioned the U-Pick-It on my way out the door.<\/p>\n
The U-Pick-It turns out to be a massive junkyard out toward Winona on the edge of the rez.<\/p>\n
And I believe the E.O.B. had a really good point about that being the very best way of all to obtain parts for making the truck a little happier both cosmetically and maybe eventually mechanically too.<\/p>\n
For better, I got the truck back. On the solstice. It’s all mine, it technically and marginally has a clean healthy slate, and I’m going to run it 240 miles down to the promised land for the holiday the christians prefer.<\/p>\n
My head’s clear too. I’ve been fussing over whether this is the forever truck, or a flipper, and the clear solstice answer is: It don’t matter, Jack. The mission is clear. One way and\/or another, get a bed in the bed soon, for something south of five grand and over a period measured in weeks not months.<\/p>\n