In total, the RV was in the shop for about 2 weeks. Complicated exhaust issue. Dave received a phone call from the shop saying he'd better come and have a word. I got wind of this at work and of course my pessimistic self was nearly in tears having assumed the worst. Upon arrival, Dave was given 3 options at different price ranges. We could fix the issue, and this would cost $2,500. Next please! Not sure what this middle option entailed, but it was upwards of a thousand. So, we went for the $200 option. It's a temporary repair. We should be fine, as long as we open the windows when we're idle for too long. If we don't, we'll just inhale noxious gas and die. Meh. I've had worse. We were told that we are in no real danger as long as we're careful. So long as gas doesn't leak, get us high, and we forget about being careful, we should be fine. At this point, we will be high anyway so we probably won't care. Score either way.
Unfortunately today is one of those days where this all seems a farce. It feels like I'm in over my head. How are we going to save up enough money for petrol, places to stay, food and all the rest that comes with it. It feels like we are going to be stuck here forever, in this beautiful city infested with arseholes. We are nearly at a point where we can start saving. But.
We went down to the RV to do some work on the roof, which is now nearly totally repaired. Half way through we go to put some beer in the fridge and realise the generator won't start. It won't even turn over. We called the garage to make sure they hadn't disconnected the starter or the lead to the battery. No. Couldn't be that easy. So we have a generator that won't work. Do we fork out another couple hundred to get it looked at? We haven't made our minds up yet. The jury is still out. It's one of those times where I feel if I bury my head in the sand, when it pops up, the whole issue will have resolved itself. Right? Yes. This is the way the world works. Phew.
We also have our driving tests booked. I'm on Saturday and can already feel the warm trickle down my leg. I HATE taking exams. The thought of them plagues me until the final moment. It robs me of my appetite and the ability to think clearly, which is most frustrating in an exam. I often wonder to myself how so many people manage to pass their test with such appalling driving, um, retardedness. I can't use the word skill or ability as it gives entirely the wrong impression. But none the less, it is not a given that I shall pass just because those bum nuts do. Wish me luck. I really don't want to have to pay to take it again. Maybe I can offer the tester 'services' in exchange for a pass if I fail. I'll have to wing it, I might have to offer Dave instead. It is Seattle (and for those who don't know Seattle, it has a very large gay population) after all.
One tid bit I missed out of my previous entry was our little trip to a roadside coffee stand. We went down to the RV quite early, so stopped off at one of the many drive up coffee stands that fuel Seattle. We had heard about bikini baristas and have tried to peer through the taped up glass to get a cheeky peek. Well, peek no longer! We pulled up, and I got the horrible feeling we were at the wrong stand. I looked at the customers leaving. Old men. A car pulled in behind. No escape, and still unsure of our destiny. I was a bit frantic at this point. What will she think of us? Will she think we're a weird fetish couple? We pulled up at the window and I tell you what, they don't mess about! She was in a thong and bra, and was extremely nice. She didn't blink twice at us as I tried to coolly ask what coffee flavours she had. I was all about putting across the vibe of "I don't care, I do this all the time. I'm in no way uncomfortable at all. Don't even know the meaning of the word." I think I failed. I think my red face and compulsive giggling gave me away. She asked Dave if he wanted ice in his coffee as the water was very hot. He said yeah and turned away. Now, she had to bend right the way over to get this ice out of a cooler. Dave's male spidey sense caught it just a moment too late. He turned just as she was coming back up from showing me her breakfast (thank you Mum for that gem of a saying). I bet every man who frequents that stall wants ice in his coffee, and I'm damn sure it's not too hot, in any way. So, we got our coffee and wondered if there was any sign to the unsuspecting that this was a bikini barista hut. It was called The Beehive. Understated, but the honey is definitely hidden away inside. The trick - look for the floor to ceiling window. If it has one of them, it's got a surprise inside!
Til next time I guess. The next surprise, the next step, the next opportunity.
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