I had bought this elliptical trainer a couple of weeks ago on eBay that was already fully assembled. Got a super deal on it - $400 for a $900 trainer - the only catch was that we needed to pick it up from the East Bay. "No problem," I thought. "I live right near the East Bay. What's saving $500?" Apparently, saving $600 = one nightmarish day that was my Saturday.
First, I had to borrow a truck from Vince, who lives up in San Rafael. As the truck is a stick shift, and I don't know how to drive stick, I recruited Fernando to help me pick up the trainer. His response? "Sure! It'll be fun - we'll make it a day trip." Ha! Little did he know...
After brunching at Sam's Cafe up in Tiburon, where we had the always delicious crab cakes benedict, we headed up to Vince's. Immediately, we got lost. Yahoo maps told us to take the Central San Rafael exit. When he saw a sign claiming "San Rafael Next 5 Exits", Fernando declared that Central San Rafael *must* be the third exit. Of course, it was the first one. He was so hung up on the wrongness of this that we completely missed our street, went through San Rafael, and ended up back on 101 North.
We got more lost for a bit, but finally arrived at Vince's. Vince had kindly left the keys for us, so we got into the truck and... Nothing. The truck was this old Mazda flatbed from 1961 or something older than creation. It sputtered a little bit, coughed politely, and refused to start. We eventually started it, and climbed in. The truck had clearly not been used for the last few years, as it smelled nasty, and had spiderwebs with a mummified spider inside. Feeling slightly icky, we set off. It took us about 2 hours to fight our way from San Rafael to Hayward. Its an hour trip in the best of times, but rain had been pounding the Bay Area for several days, and East Bay traffic was typically horrendous. Since the radio was ancient, we had nothing but conversation to amuse us.
Serena (jokingly acting as a therapist): Tell me about your mother.
Fernando: YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!
Serena: Huh?
This is about how conversation went the whole day. Clearly, the two of us have communication issues.
When we finally get to Hayward and find the damn warehouse, but lo and behold: the supervisor was NOT there. We stood outside the warehouse for about 30 minutes in the pouring rain. Of course, Mr. Rick does not bother to call me and let me know that he had an emergency to deal with (he called me this am). We decided to wait for another half hour, during which I fell asleep in the cramped truck. Eventually, we give up and decide to head to Palo Alto and finish the remainder of our errands.
By this point, we're fed up, stinky, wet, smelly, and tired. It'd been pouring all day, and the overcast sky only made our moods worse. We're totally ready to head back to my house, take a rest, and then return the truck - but somehow, on our way back from Shallow Alto, we ended up not exiting 92 East in time and back on the San Mateo Bridge, which is about 10 miles long. We give up trying to be remotely efficient or in control of the situation, and cruise back up to San Rafael to get his car.
***** TOTAL TRAVEL TIME: 7 Hours *****
Miraculously, it was at this point that our luck turned. The weather completely cleared up, and despite the accident reports on 740 am, traffic was light. We made it up to San Rafael in a matter of 45 minutes, and happily hop into his car. At first sight of his little Jetta, Fernando lets out a moan of "Hi baby!" I can't say I blame him. After being in that stupid truck for 5 hours, with everything on top of my lap, the Jetta was the happiest thing I had ever seen.
Again, we're completely ready just to head back to SF and crash, but we spot this little Puerto Rican restaurant called Sol Food on a random corner in San Rafael. Seriously, this restaurant is about the size of my bathroom, and when we walked in, there was barely standing room, much less seating. But poor Fernando had his heart set on some homemade food, and the specials looked delicious, so the owner made space for us behind the cash register on two stools.
And it turned out to be a good decision. The food was amazing and hit the spot; the atmosphere was warm and cheery, with pink and green decor and a mellow salsa playing in the background. By the time we left (a mere 15 mins later, as we inhaled our food!), we were revitalized enough to run around the parking lot a few times.
All in all, it turned out to be an ok day. Despite the weather, the truck, the stupid stupid warehouse supervisor, and sheer exhaustion, we ended it on a good note. Besides, now I'm getting my elliptical trainer delivered free of charge on Tuesday, which means I don't have to worry about lugging a 300 pound machine up two flights of stairs. Sometimes there really are silver linings.
First, I had to borrow a truck from Vince, who lives up in San Rafael. As the truck is a stick shift, and I don't know how to drive stick, I recruited Fernando to help me pick up the trainer. His response? "Sure! It'll be fun - we'll make it a day trip." Ha! Little did he know...
After brunching at Sam's Cafe up in Tiburon, where we had the always delicious crab cakes benedict, we headed up to Vince's. Immediately, we got lost. Yahoo maps told us to take the Central San Rafael exit. When he saw a sign claiming "San Rafael Next 5 Exits", Fernando declared that Central San Rafael *must* be the third exit. Of course, it was the first one. He was so hung up on the wrongness of this that we completely missed our street, went through San Rafael, and ended up back on 101 North.
We got more lost for a bit, but finally arrived at Vince's. Vince had kindly left the keys for us, so we got into the truck and... Nothing. The truck was this old Mazda flatbed from 1961 or something older than creation. It sputtered a little bit, coughed politely, and refused to start. We eventually started it, and climbed in. The truck had clearly not been used for the last few years, as it smelled nasty, and had spiderwebs with a mummified spider inside. Feeling slightly icky, we set off. It took us about 2 hours to fight our way from San Rafael to Hayward. Its an hour trip in the best of times, but rain had been pounding the Bay Area for several days, and East Bay traffic was typically horrendous. Since the radio was ancient, we had nothing but conversation to amuse us.
Serena (jokingly acting as a therapist): Tell me about your mother.
Fernando: YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!
Serena: Huh?
This is about how conversation went the whole day. Clearly, the two of us have communication issues.
When we finally get to Hayward and find the damn warehouse, but lo and behold: the supervisor was NOT there. We stood outside the warehouse for about 30 minutes in the pouring rain. Of course, Mr. Rick does not bother to call me and let me know that he had an emergency to deal with (he called me this am). We decided to wait for another half hour, during which I fell asleep in the cramped truck. Eventually, we give up and decide to head to Palo Alto and finish the remainder of our errands.
By this point, we're fed up, stinky, wet, smelly, and tired. It'd been pouring all day, and the overcast sky only made our moods worse. We're totally ready to head back to my house, take a rest, and then return the truck - but somehow, on our way back from Shallow Alto, we ended up not exiting 92 East in time and back on the San Mateo Bridge, which is about 10 miles long. We give up trying to be remotely efficient or in control of the situation, and cruise back up to San Rafael to get his car.
***** TOTAL TRAVEL TIME: 7 Hours *****
Miraculously, it was at this point that our luck turned. The weather completely cleared up, and despite the accident reports on 740 am, traffic was light. We made it up to San Rafael in a matter of 45 minutes, and happily hop into his car. At first sight of his little Jetta, Fernando lets out a moan of "Hi baby!" I can't say I blame him. After being in that stupid truck for 5 hours, with everything on top of my lap, the Jetta was the happiest thing I had ever seen.
Again, we're completely ready just to head back to SF and crash, but we spot this little Puerto Rican restaurant called Sol Food on a random corner in San Rafael. Seriously, this restaurant is about the size of my bathroom, and when we walked in, there was barely standing room, much less seating. But poor Fernando had his heart set on some homemade food, and the specials looked delicious, so the owner made space for us behind the cash register on two stools.
And it turned out to be a good decision. The food was amazing and hit the spot; the atmosphere was warm and cheery, with pink and green decor and a mellow salsa playing in the background. By the time we left (a mere 15 mins later, as we inhaled our food!), we were revitalized enough to run around the parking lot a few times.
All in all, it turned out to be an ok day. Despite the weather, the truck, the stupid stupid warehouse supervisor, and sheer exhaustion, we ended it on a good note. Besides, now I'm getting my elliptical trainer delivered free of charge on Tuesday, which means I don't have to worry about lugging a 300 pound machine up two flights of stairs. Sometimes there really are silver linings.
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