I (Usually) Hate Car Shopping

I was driving my car maybe 2,000 miles every 18 months, so it was a complete waste of insurance money and the space in my driveway.  When I needed to go somewhere with the family or quickly run over to the grocery store we used my wife's Crossover Hybrid.  Additionally the co-author on the WIP McVurdy books was having issues with his cars so he had borrowed mine.  For the better part of six months.

I also have no car payments right now and I LOVE it.

I basically woke up one day and said "Dude, I don't want to insure it anymore, give me cash, and I'll give you the title."  So I sold him the car and I'm currently car-free which is working out remarkably well.   I bike to work everyday (~2 miles) and the way our schedule works out we don't really need a second car.  Usually.

Sometimes we do need a second car.  For example, a few weeks ago my daughter had to go to her Karate lessons and 30 minutes after they started we had to be at my son's school for a Kindergarten open house.  Both of these events got out at the same time.  It's unusual, and we pulled it off... sort of... I basically spent two hours in the car, and missed most of the open house, but one parent was able to attend and our daughter got picked up from karate, so success!

So if I'm going to get a second car it has to be more useful than the one I just sold (economy sedan).  We really enjoy camping in our family and the crossover is great for around town stuff, but when we load up for a weekend of camping it gets crowded.  Tents, sleeping bags, two kids, two adults, two dogs, food, etc... I have a cargo box strapped to the roof rack and a cargo rack hanging out of the tow hitch in the back.  The dogs sit on the floor beneath the kids and a cooler is usually shoved between them.  I've mastered this game of Tetris but am afraid we have no room to expand.

All set, ready to go.  Only just enough space for the driver

Last year we went on a wonderful camping trip to Eastern Oregon, picked a spot with almost no light pollution and I wanted to bring my 8" Dobsonian Reflector telescope with us (they're huge).  There was no way I was fitting the telescope in the mess and even with all my planning we came up short on water (there just wasn't enough space!)

It's a large pile of highly sophisticated equipment.  It's PRECIOUS!

The primary reason my sedan never got driven was because it just wasn't useful.  We could barely fit the whole family in it, to say nothing of the dog(s).  We didn't use it for any trips because, frankly, we need space to haul food, drinks, clothes, even going to the beach required more space than was available.

I guess we could try this?  Source: Actually seen on the wild streets of Hillsboro, OR

So I've concluded I need a pickup.  It's perfect!  We can use it on our long haul trips, the extended or crew cabs are big enough to fit the family + furries and our junk can all get loaded into the bed.  If we wanted to get really fancy I could pull a small trailer with some ATVs or... other junk.  I can also use it for large home improvement projects.  Prior to home ownership the entire contents of my toolbox could be carried by one person in one trip.  Home ownership really brings out the handy-man in all of us.

Tying it to the rack improves the situation. A little.  You should have seen it with the 16' support beam for the swing-set on top.

So I started a little savings account in the fall, we're squirreling away a few bucks every month, I hope to buy my next car in cash.  Mostly because I hate car payments but also because my preventative steps after the Anthem and DOE breaches have made my credit difficult for even me to use (although I'm sure there are people I've never met who have memorized by SSN)

After we got our tax refund we figured maybe we should start looking.  I anticipate I'll end up spending more than I currently have but if we find a great deal then, hey, we save money!  So this weekend we drove up to Olympia, WA to look at a few trucks currently within our price range.  They both looked like decent trucks in the pictures, the CarFAX reports indicated they had both been in accidents with other vehicles (not involving airbags) so I was a bit wary but, what the heck!

The first truck we got into was a 2002 Ford F250 (Diesel). It smelled like someone had been chain smoking cigars in it for the last 15 years, and the burns in the carpet and upholstery indicated the smoker was right handed.  My wife and I have some experience getting rid of smoke stink, but we both had the distinct feeling even after a thorough shampooing and odor removal treatment this truck was going to need a lot of time airing out.

I stick the key in the ignition, wait for the "Wait-to-start" light to go out and turn.  It makes a lot of noise but definitely isn't starting.  "It's been sitting here on the lot a long time, try it again." the car salesman offers over my shoulder.  I turn the key again, it spins a while, I give it a solid 5 seconds and nothing happens.  "Did you wait for the glow-plugs to warm?" the salesman asks.

"I wasn't born yesterday" I mutter under my breath.  I let him walk me through "complicated process of starting a diesel".  After the light goes out I turn the starter, hold it for 15 seconds just because, why the hell not.  The engine catches!  It dies.  "One more time." the salesman grumbles, clearly embarrassed.

I make a few snide remarks about how many years it must have been sitting here, try one more time and the engine finally starts.  We sit in the parking spot idling for a few minutes as the salesman fills us in about their "5 day/300 mile return policy".  He innocently notes that "if it still isn't starting on the first try in a few days, bring it back and we'll give you your money back.  No pressure."

"We live 150 miles away," my wife remarks.  "So, we take it home, start it up tomorrow, bring it back, and it'll be out of warranty."

"Oh, yeah.  That sucks."

We pulled out of the parking lot and went on a brief test drive.  Out onto the highway down a few exits and back.  It drove fine.  Very loud, but diesels can be, it didn't pull, hesitate or stutter.  Once the engine warmed up ash and smoke residue started blowing out of the heater at us.  I wasn't particularly impressed, but willing to consider a purchase after a thorough inspection by a mechanic I trust.

We get back to the dealership and he points us at the truck parked next to where we started.  He knows he's not going to sell me the Ford.  Instead he recommends their 2001 GMC Sierra 2500 (Turbo Diesel!)  I try not to seem too excited, but this is exactly the truck I've been eyeing.  This truck is in my AutoTrader notifications and is the reason I drove to this dealership.  Just shy of 200K miles (which for a diesel is barely broken in) and their asking price was just shy of $12k, I had to check it out.

I get in and am immediately impressed by the lack of cigar smell.  The leather seats don't hurt either.  The kids note that the back seat didn't provide quite as much leg room, but they look comfortable enough.  I stick the key in the ignition, make a mocking remark about starting up on the first try start it up.  It roars to life.

There's a certain visceral elation some of us feel in the presence of a powerful machine.  I don't think it needs to be loud, but I don't think it hurts.  Nor do you need to feel it in your chest, although again, it doesn't hurt.  It's hard to describe exactly but when that rumbling diesel roared to life with the hissing, jet engine like sound of the turbo desperately dumping oxygen into the engine I surprised myself by yelling out. I don't think I yelled anything in particular, maybe something like "Oh yeah!".  I distinctly remember my adrenal glands opened up and I felt good.

"It started the first time!" I tried to redirect the source of my surprise for the salesman's benefit.  He chuckles, I don't think he bought it.  We sit in the parking spot a few minutes, letting the oil pressure come up and I adjust the heater, rear-view, and seats.  Then I flop around like a fish out of water trying to find the side-view mirror adjustment.  Apparently I have to rolldown the windows and do it manually.  Oh well.

We pull out of the parking spot and run the same route in what felt like half the time.  I didn't actually time it, but I swear, we went a lot faster.  When you're driving a truck like this you own the road.  I signal my intention to merge left, the left lane clears nearly instantly as tiny sedans submit to my obvious superiority.  I floor it on the on ramp to I5, the engine roars in response.  You have to understand something now.  I'm used to driving a hybrid crossover.  They get 0-60 in something like 90 seconds.  It's economically and ecologically responsible and for 99% of my driving it does the job but this thing.  This thing did exactly what I asked, when I asked.  I know deep in my chest, I may or may not be buying this truck (this remains to be seen) but I will buy a Sierra 2500 Turbo Diesel...

"I like this truck!" My four year old announces enthusiastically from the back.

We're out on the highway, making great time. I tell myself it must be because rush-hour traffic is dying down.  I note out loud that the engine, while more enjoyable to listen to, is definitely quieter than the Ford.  I get out on a straight away and take my hands off the steering wheel, just for a second, it pulls to the right.  Hmm, maybe it needs an alignment.  I mention as much out loud, the heater turns on.  "Hey, the heater is on and it doesn't smell like cigars!" my wife observes from the passenger's seat.  She's right, it does have that going for it.

We finish the test drive, I pull it back into the parking spot.  I look at the salesman, "Jordan, the CarFAX says this car was in an accident.  You wouldn't happen to have the accident report would you?"  He shrugs and says he'll check, if we'll just follow him.  I mention I'll stay outside and take a closer look at the exteriors of both trucks.

First thing I notice, I would have never seen on the Ford close up, between the front and rear wheels on the underside there is a distinct pattern of damage.  All little dings and bumps but it adds up to giving the entire truck the ever so slightest arch.  It's possible the damage was superficial, but it gave me the distinct impression someone had parked the truck on a fallen tree and then used it as a seesaw for a few hours.  There's a mess I'd rather not get involved with.  Next.

Not pictured: The truck

The GMC was a little more complicated.  I immediately noted some twisting on the top edges of the bed, at this point I have no idea what could have caused this.  The camper hookups beneath the truck also don't appear to be running as perpendicular to the transmission as I might expect.  Almost like something wrenched one of them out of place.  Finally the tailgate doesn't quite fit.  It's bowed distinctly outward, far enough I can stick my open hand in between the tailgate and the truck bed and I can still see the ground beneath.  I walk around the car checking places where the body meets, looking for obvious signs of twisting in the frame, and nothing sticks out.  But I can't help but think of that distinct pull.  By itself it is nothing but all of these things together?  I can't banish the image of two trucks playing tug-of-war in a muddy field until the back end of this truck pinches together, ever-so-slightly.  I called my father-in-law and talk it through with him.  He had no advice, but my gut said walk away.  So I did.

This is something people (idiots) actually do

As we left the dealership I shook the salesman's hand and thanked him for his time. He handed me his card and asked me to call in a week to see if they have new inventory. They really did seem like low pressure sales people. As we walked back to the hybrid my son stopped in his tracks and stared crying.  "What's wrong?" We all asked.

"I wanted the truck!" He choked out between sobs. "Why are we just leaving it?"

We finished the evening by meeting up with my sister (who lives in the area) for dinner and beers at McMenamin's.  This is the first time I've ever had a burger at McMenamin's where when I ordered medium-rare they brought me a medium-rare burger.  Usually my wife orders medium and gets medium-rare, while I order medium-rare and get well-done.  Beer was good, conversation was fun, kids were remarkably well behaved, but it was close to bed time on a school night so we cut it short.

The kids fell asleep on the ride home, my wife looks at me halfway there and says "We came four hours to test drive two trucks and we're going home completely empty handed.  Why do I feel like today was a good day?"

I'm not really sure, but I had to agree with her.

Unsolicited

The text message simply said “very clever’.  Jim frowned at the scuffed up phone screen trying to make out the phone number.  ‘Unknown’ it said.  Helpful, he thought as he rolled his eyes probably some spammer and he put the phone back in his pocket..   He returned his attention to the meeting, although he hadn’t missed anything.  Somebody with a thick accent was monologuing on the conference phone, reading line for line from his PowerPoint which was being projected against the wall at the far end of the room.

“...team would take over issues at the beginning of their work day...”

Ten of Jim’s teammates sat around the grey table under beige walls staring at their laptops, not even pretending to pay attention to the presenter but instead trying to get ahead of schedule on their assigned tasks.  Jim looked at his laptop, changed windows and pressed “Send/Receive” in Outlook hoping for any external stimulation but no new emails came in.

“...an hour or two of overlap is essential, this enables hand off of any issues…”

With a sigh Jim opened Facebook, scrolling through his feed, not really seeing anything for a few minutes then closed the tab.  He glanced up at the presentation, trying to pretend he was paying attention, his gaze snagged on Tina who rolled her eyes and smirked at Jim.  Jim shut his eyes and dropped his head a few inches, miming falling asleep, but quickly so no one else would notice.  When he opened his eyes again Tina was smiling and shaking her head before straightening up in her chair and returning her attention to her laptop.

Jim looked back up at the PowerPoint presentation.  The slide had changed and been replaced by a flow diagram of some sort.  There were boxes representing his team and their overseas equivalents.  Lines connected the boxes into a circle which surrounded a cloud.  The wall beneath the projected cloud was marked up by dry-erase marker.  Some moron who had used the room before them had decided the thirty by five foot whiteboard on the side of the room wasn’t good enough and written on the wall.  The marking was illegible, it looked like someone had spent some time trying to clean it before giving up.  By this time next week the wall would be repainted.

“... are there any questions?”

The ever anticipated keywords indicated they were nearing the end of the presentation.  Jim’s eyes snapped back to attention and refocused on the slide.  It had one word on it, the letters were a foot tall.  Jim held his breath, hoping nobody would have any questions and they could get out of the meeting 15 minutes early and head to lunch.

“Yeah,” Rick, his boss leaned forward, speaking into the conference phone in the center of the table.  A totally unnecessary effort since one of the many peripheral microphones was clearly six inches from his face.

“I was wondering if you could elaborate on…”  Jim leaned back in his chair stretching his arms up over his head.  His spine cracked in a few places and he grunted, stifling an exasperated groan.  The presenter responded to his question, then there were follow up clarifications.  When the follow up queries were exhausted he asked again if there were questions.  We could get out seven minutes early now, Jim thought… but someone else had a question.  This pattern repeated itself until there were two minutes left and everyone magically ran out of questions or maybe they all just stopped caring.

“Well…” the voice paused dramatically, giving everyone last chance to delay their lunch break, “if you have any other questions feel free to email or message me.  I’m online late most nights and I know this is a big change, so don’t hesitate to ask questions.”  Jim felt himself holding his breath again, the speaker paused again.  “Thanks for your time, have a great day!”

There were mutters of agreement and reciprocation all throughout the room, Rick stood and leaned over the conference phone, his finger on the ‘hang up’ button, he practically shouted into the phone.  “Thanks for the presentation, Igor!  It was very enlightening, we’ll be in touch”.

There was a click and the lights on the phone went off.  An audible, collective sigh of release filled the room.  Tina chuckled, “So it took him an hour to say ‘make sure you get a status update from Europe when you start in the morning.”  Jim rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Rick shook his head, “it’s important that we are all on the same page and don’t drop customer issues.”

“Is he expecting us to have an hour long sync meeting every morning?” Jim groaned.  Luckily nobody heard him over the shuffling of feet, laptops, and coats as everyone hurried towards the doorway trying their best to not look like they were hurrying.

Jim hung back avoiding the bustle so he was one of the last to leave the conference room. The air in the hallway felt cool and fresh after the stuffy conference room he breathed in cleansing the musty smell of his coworkers from his head.

“Hey” came a voice from behind him.  He turned and saw Tina had been waiting for him.  Tina was pretty although Jim had never seen her as anything other than a friend.  She was a good foot shorter than him and naturally brunette but he only knew that because he could see her roots.  Every week her hair was a different color this week it was neon blue.

“You have plans for lunch today?”  She fell in beside him and they followed the rest of the horde back towards their desks.

“Not really, you wanna grab a bite in the cafe’?” Jim hoisted his laptop under his arm, dragging his feet and lengthening the distance between him and his coworkers.

“Nah, let’s head off campus today, what about that deli?  The one attached to the butcher?”

“Sure,” Jim shrugged, “I need to drop off my laptop” he lifted it slightly then gestured towards it with his head, “then we can head out, cool?”

“Cool, I’ll just meet you there.”

Jim’s cubicle was a mess.  Post-It notes were attached to nearly every vertical surface, and then knickknacks and notepads were strewn on virtually every horizontal surface.  No trash, Jim was messy but definitely not a slob.  He walked the single pace to the back of his tiny cloth lined cell and set his laptop down, attaching the cable lock and power adapter.  He turned to leave but something caught his eye.  Sitting in the corner of his cubicle nearest the entrance, hidden from view unless you were inside looking out was a doll of some kind.

Jim squinted quizzically at the doll and leaned over to grab it.  He didn’t know anything about dolls but he knew it wasn’t Barbie, it looked far too much like an actual human.  It was definitely made in the likeness of an adult.  He lifted it up and found a note was pinned to the back.  It read “but I found you anyway”

Car Crash

Naomi sat in the seat, staring into space, while the kids charged around above her, yelling at the tops of their voices.  Something about this situation was odd, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  Her thoughts came slowly and through a haze.  She didn’t know any kids, much less have any of her own.  That wasn’t it.  Something else was odd.  Why were they above her?

She opened her eyes and looked around the car her head throbbed and spun simultaneously, her stomach heaved in protest as she slowly turned her head. Every puke green surface was either sticky from some forgotten spill or dusty from long neglect.  The seats were empty except for a pile of old fast food wrappers stuffed into bags in front of the passenger’s seat.  The car rocked up and down as the children jumped and shrieked above her.

“Hey, knock it off!” she pounded with her fist on the roof of the car.  Her head seared anew in objection.  She rubbed her eyes and glanced through her windows, trying to remember where she was.  She was in a ditch on some back country road, identical to any number of roads in the Great American Wilderness.  Cloud white steam was pouring out of the front of her car, and she didn’t need to be a mechanic to see why, her hood was wrapped around the trunk of an ancient tree.

She pushed herself up and out of her seat, the door groaned tiredly into the quiet as she flopped her feet to the ground.  She must have dozed off while driving.  She stopped and listened, silence washed over here and pressed into her skull, she couldn’t decide if it helped the headache or worsened it.  She hesitated, then pushed herself to a stand, where had those kids gone?

She spun around and squinted against the bright sunlight.  There was nothing on the roof of her car.  Not even footprints, the layer of dust seemed completely undisturbed.  She looked around, maybe they’d gotten down?  But all she could see in any direction was wide empty fields.  She looked up and down the road, there was nothing, not even a bush.  She’d certainly picked a great place to fall asleep, her tree was the only one for miles.  Just a few more feet and instead of a tree she would have knocked over some wire fence.

Cursing, Naomi reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette.  She lit it and inspected her head in the side mirror.  She had a few scratches on her cheek and possibly a bruise below her eye.  There was blood running down the side of her head matted in her hair.  She probably had a concussion.  She groaned and sucked hard on the cigarette as she flopped back into a lean against the car door pulling out her phone.  No service.  Great.

She shoved the phone back into her purse as a crow landed on the road opposite her.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a phone, would you?” she asked it mockingly.  The crow cocked it’s head at her quizzically.  “Or know where those kids went, the ones that were just on my roof a minute ago?”  The crow took two hops towards her, watching her intently.  She squinted back at the crow, sucking hard on her cigarette again, the crow’s eyes fixed intently on hers the whole time.

“Don’t you have something better to do?  Like eating, or fucking, or something?”

“Caw!” the crow barked at her, Naomi stifled a jump then laughed at herself.

“Could you at least go get some help?” she spat back at the crow, then flicked her still smoking butt in it’s direction.

The crow watched impassively as the flaming projectile went wide, then returned its stare to her a moment longer before taking flight.  Naomi watched as it disappeared into the distance, envying the ease and speed with which the bird could go anywhere it liked.  As simple as stepping out the front door, left foot then right, and repeat a few hundred thousand times.

Naomi walked around to the trunk.  She didn’t need a key and there was no latch.  The trick was to hit it with your fist in just the right place...  It took two or three tries but she got it, the trunk clicked, notifying her of her success.  She lifted it above her head, the worthless hydraulic lifts wheezed. She rammed an old closet rod in to wedge it open and inspected her meager possessions.

Nothing was damaged.  She pulled out a bottle of water and guzzled it greedily, tossing aside an old box of flares with her other hand trying to find that box of meal bars she’d stashed in here last week.  She found the box but it was empty.  With a string of curses she tossed the box back into the trunk and repacked her bag.  She quickly went through the car, making sure she wouldn’t leave anything she might miss.  She didn’t bother to lock it up, or ever close the doors, she just started walking.

/r/WritingPrompts: James' Ants

It was 8PM and James sat in the park chewing his sub sandwich like he did every night.  He crumpled up the extra cookie he’d brought, allowing the crumbs to land on the ground in front of  him.  He listened to the sounds of kids playing in the distance while he watched the ants feast on their bounty.  He smiled sadly down at the ants.  “I wish my boss was as understanding as yours.  Even if she is a bit of a slave driver, at least she attends to all your needs.”  He took another bite of his sandwich and decided he had no appetite left.  He tossed the sandwich on the ground for the ants to have.  Some days it seemed his best friends were the ants and the in the park.  “Your contributions will not be forgotten” he muttered to himself. He guffawed at the irony.  Of course his credit stealing boss would say that.

He pushed his earbuds in and started poking at his smartphone, pulling up the day’s news.  “...nuclear plant had a close call today.  Officials are withholding exact details about the incident but it is clear that just after 3 PM Eastern today the plant evacuated all personnel and instituted a one mile quarantine around the reactor in question only allowing NRC officials in or around the plant.  We’ve been assured there will be no lasting danger…”  James stopped listening letting the sound of the voice wash over him as he stood and began walking home.  Was this all there was to his life?  Wake up in the morning, work twelve hours doing everyone else’s job eating a sandwich in the park with the ants then going home?  He certainly hoped not.

With a sigh he unlocked his door to his apartment and reached inside to flip the light switch.  He stopped when he felt something crunch under his foot.  It was a cookie, wrapped in deli paper, just like the ones that came with his sandwiches.  He frowned, reached down and picked it up turning over the pieces in his hand.  He shrugged.  Perhaps he’d have it with his lunch tomorrow.

James slowly began his evening routine, brushing his teeth, eyes bleary and tired.  He startled awake once or twice while still on his feet, finally he gave up on the routine and just went to sleep.  Tomorrow promised to be just as terrible and exhausting of a day as today was.  “Your contributions won’t be forgotten” he repeated mockingly then fell asleep.

James awoke at 6AM and went about his routine with a certain reluctance.  Today he had to present the department’s accomplishments to his boss.  His boss would congratulate him, pat him on the back and then present it to his own superiors, taking credit for both the presentation and the accomplishments.  He ate breakfast unenthusiastically, staring unseeing at the news on his phone.  More about the nuclear incident yesterday, some other news about strange behavior around town.  It seemed there was nothing like a close call with a nuclear plant to bring out the crazies.  More reassurances from people whose names James didn’t recognize, that there was nothing to worry about.

James cleaned up after his breakfast then put on his shoes and coat to leave. He opened the door and stopped short again.  There was a cylindrical paper package on his doormat.  That was odd.  He leaned out the door to pick it up, looking up and down the hall but nobody was there.  He picked up the package and realized it was a deli sandwich.  He began to unwrap the paper and noticed a large note scrawled on a napkin, perhaps in crayon?  It said “THNK YU”.  That was odd.  Who were these gifts from?

James walked to work, listening to music on his earbuds the whole way.  He tried to smile at people as he passed, feigning a skip in his step.  He hoped he could trick his subconscious into being cheerful.  It didn’t work.  The streets seemed emptier than usual and everyone he smiled at seemed jumpy or upset.  He got more than a few indignant glares.  When he got to the office he gave up on being cheery and nodded to the security guard as swiped his badge.  The guard indifferently wished him a good day and James navigated the corridors, heading directly to his desk.

He passed his bosses desk, still empty, no coat hanging on the hook and the laptop bag that usually occupied his chair was still missing.  As usual James was here before everyone, even his supposed leadership.  He smirked mirthlessly before rounding the corner to his own desk.

James worked all morning, polishing his presentation and catching up on e-mail from the night before.  He ate the sandwich and cookie for lunch, they were both exactly the way he liked them.  Somebody who knew him well had to have dropped it off, but who?  At 2PM he went searching for his boss, it was time for the presentation.  He swung by the desk and noticed the coat and laptop bag were still missing.  “That’s odd…” he said to himself.  He peaked around the corner at his neighbor, “Have you seen Bill today?”  The woman barely looked up from her keyboard and shook her head.  She mumbled something through a mouthful of food that sounded something like, “no I haven’t”.  James shrugged and went back to his desk.  He spent the rest of the day catching up on work he’d fallen behind on.  Without Bill present he ended up having the most productive day he’d had in awhile.

6PM crept up on him and he decided to call it a day early, he grabbed his usual from the deli down the street and stopped in the park.  The sun was still out and he could hear the kids screaming and playing.  It was nice to head home when the world was still alive and awake.  He crumpled up a cookie for the ants and dug into his sandwich with a smile.  He was halfway through his sandwich before he realized they were gone.  No ants had come to claim his cookie.  Not even one scout.  He knew their hill was near here somewhere so he started looking around.  He saw a patch of dirt behind the bench that had been ripped up nearby, as though some construction workers had been replacing a line.  Maybe the anthill had been there and had been destroyed by the work?

James eyed the cookie on the ground sadly before finishing his sandwich.  Perhaps they were reestablishing somewhere else.  He finished his meal quickly then headed home.  Plugging in his earbuds again, he pulled up some local news.  The news caster was frantic, he could barely make out what she was saying, something about mutant ants?  Ravaging the city, killing, burning?  He looked up and around him, it must be a hoax.  He was pretty sure he would have noticed something like that, but the street did seem oddly quiet.  He shrugged and kept listening.  She continued to give a shrieking account of horror and destruction he laughed at how cheesy it was.  It sounded like a terrible attempt at an Orson Wells type broadcast.

Then as happens when you’re watching a horror movie he started to get jumpy.  The horrific accounts of violence seemed to be moving through the city and the pattern eerily reflected his own, as though the someone were clearing the way to his home.  This street was too quiet, where had everyone gone?  What was going on?  He turned up the alley to his apartment hurrying up the stairs.  Why hurry?  he chided himself.  He got to the top of the stairs and swore he saw something scurry around the corner at the end of the hall.  He shivered and tried to snap himself out of it.

James stuck the key in his door and shoved open the door.  He was almost hyperventilating.  He needed to take a breath and calm down!  He shut the door behind him a little harder than usual then flipped on the light.  He stopped and stared in horror at what was sitting on his table.  His boss’s severed head was upright on a plate staring right at him.  A look of terror frozen forever on the features of his face.  James crept closer even though he knew he should run.  He could see a piece of paper with beautiful red writing on it.  When finally he got close enough to read it he saw the words written carefully and clearly in blood “Your contributions will not be forgotten.”

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/46jil3/wp_you_like_to_leave_gifts_for_an_ant_colony_like/

/r/WritingPrompts: Handshakes

James Smith stared at his reflection in the hotel mirror, hyping himself up.  You can do this, you’ve come too far to fail now.  You have a firm handshake, firmer than anyone else in your class.  He closed his eyes and visualized his father.  James had grown up on a farm in Idaho, pulling potatoes and living a simple life.  His father had saved up everything, scraped together every last dollar he could to give James the opportunity to go to business school and now he’d graduated with honors.  Now that he’d finished the video interviews it was time for the face to face, and that inevitably meant a handshake.  He’d grown up hearing horror stories about how firm the businessman handshake had become over the centuries.  It was said that some of the wealthiest men in the world had their hands replaced with bionic implements to make their grips that much firmer.  Bone crushing grips that could turn coal to diamonds.  In school he’d practiced with his peers, growing up as a farm boy he had a naturally firm grip, his father, uncles, and neighbors had all valued a firm handshake, but he knew nothing could prepare him for the real thing.

Today James was meeting with Steve Johnson, a midlevel manager at Buffet Incorporated.  They’d spoken a few times during the interview process, Steve seemed like a pleasant guy but in order to have come as far as he had in his career he certainly had a formidable handshake.  James opened his eyes and checked his reflection again, firming his resolve he nodded and left the hotel room.

As he walked out the front door of the lobby, he eyed the waiting taxis trying to decide which one would smell the least repulsive.  He turned to a tap on the shoulder to find the doorman begging his attention, “Mr. Smith?”  James nodded, “The company has sent you a car…” he gestured towards a black limousine.  James stopped, that was odd, he was interviewing for a low level finance job, why would they have sent a car?  James tensed up but nodded to the door man stepping towards the car.

Before he reached the car Steve Johnson stepped out of the back.  He smiled at James and extended his hand.  James began to sweat.  He could feel it dripping along the insides of his shirt, collecting on his brow and around his neck.  James took a deep breath and received the handshake.  He was shocked at how quickly the handshake went, a brief touch and then Steve had yanked his hand free.  Could this have been a courtesy to a new graduate?  Was he sparing James the humiliation of a broken hand?

“It’s good to finally meet you face to face,” Steve was saying, “I’m sorry about the change of plans, but… well... “  He gestured to the waiting car.  James nodded feigning confidence and stepped into the car sliding across backseat.  Then he stopped cold when he saw who else was there.

Sitting across from him was an older man, with jovial face but intimidating eyes.  He had silver hair and a suit that matched.  Edouard Buffet, heir to the Buffet fortune and head-man himself watched him with a smile.  James had read about him in school and in preparing for his interviews, the man was a shark, cunning and smart, every bit as formidable as any of his predecessors.  “Hello James,” Steve slid into the seat next to James and closed the door, “I’m sorry about the change in plans.  After reviewing your application I wanted to meet you myself”.  Edouard grinned James just sat their agape, the car had begun moving and James hadn’t even noticed.  “I’ve taken a keen interest in your hiring because frankly, if all works out well, you’ll be reporting directly to me.” A million thoughts rushed through James’ head, he was thrilled that he’d done so well in the interviews, terrified to be sitting in the presence of this legend.  “Forgive my manners,” Edouard said suddenly, leaning across the car, “I’m Edouard Buffet,” as he offered his hand James could hear servos whirring and spinning up, the man had a legendary handshake, one that could crush the hands of some of the most formidable businessmen in the world.

James gulped, preparing himself for yet another handshake and he didn’t think he’d get off easy this time.  He thought back to University, “Business Etiquette 310” had an entire chapter on the handshake, the trick was to … was to what?  James’ mind went blank.  Edouard was waiting, amusement draining from his eyes being replaced with impatience.  James remembered his father, the disappointment he would feel if James failed in this.  Gathering himself he grabbed the man’s hand, remembering every handshake he’d ever had, recalling his father’s firm handshake when he was just a boy of 10, putting everything he could into this, he knew if he broke a few bones they would all laugh and say it was understandable, but James would be taken down a peg in these men’s eyes.  He squeezed, the whine of motors pierced the air in the quiet and tense car, James could hear grinding but with his adrenaline pumping he didn’t know if it was his hand or perhaps some other mechanism of the artificial appendage he held.

James looked up to meet Edouard’s gaze and was surprised what he saw.  The man’s face was red with determination, all hints of mirth gone from his eyes, sweat was appearing on his brow.  James abruptly broke off the handshake confused.  “That’s quite the handshake you have there,”  Edouard said with obviously feigned amusement in his voice.  He was casually rubbing the inside of his palm.

James shrugged, his confidence building.  “I worked on my father’s farm as a boy, I guess working with one’s hands your whole life gives you a firm grip.”  James smiled at Edouard who nodded skeptically.

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/45uat2/wp_the_year_is_3000_only_people_with_the_firmest/

/r/WritingPrompts: First Contact

"Land here," Commander Snu pointed at the largest continent on the view screen, they started descending through the upper atmosphere in a carefully practiced slow and nonthreatening manner.  From orbit they had established this was a Class 3 Civilization, either on the verge of total self-annihilation or migration to Class 4.  It was an opportune time to make first contact and Commander Snu had done this hundreds of times.  Their telescopic observations indicated the primary sentient lifeforms on the planet were bipedal and tool wielding.  Not uncommon, although unlike Snu's species they had evolved a total loss of their fur.

They came to a rest in the middle of a large clearing near a well populated area on the largest continent.  This seemed like the best place to make contact.  Snu grabbed two of his officers and they began making the descent of the ramp towards the ground. As expected a large group of the natives had flocked to their landing location, they were standing in a circle and at a distance from the ship.  Snu and his men walked down the ramp slowly and with carefully practiced precision, closed mouths baring no teeth, no facial movements whatsoever, arms spread slightly from their bodies and pointing at the ground.  After much trial and error this had been determined to be the least threatening possible approach to greeting a new civilization.

Once they were at the foot of the ramp Snu and his men stopped and waited.  The natives stood around and looked at each other, local military vessels were circling above their heads watching but making no aggressive overtures.  Eventually one member of the crowd stepped forward, slowly approaching them in an unpracticed imitation of the way Snu and his men had exited the ship.  Good, this meant they were open to cordial relations, if they weren't they probably would have been attacked before landing, but it still made Snu feel more relaxed.

Once the volunteer was standing before Snu he held his hand out in front of his torso.  Snu imitated him, then the volunteer moved his hand to Snu's and grasped it.  Not an uncommon gesture among bipedal species with two upper limbs and hands. It's a very natural gesture to symbolize "joining", although among Snu's people it was a intimate, usually preceding copulation.  Joining the service had certainly taught him to set aside his own modesty.  The volunteer's lips curled up and he started shaking Snu's hand up and down, there was a general increase of sound from the crowd. Snu's ears went back in alarm, but he still perceived no direct threat so he held his ground.

The volunteer was talking but Snu did not yet understand, the Universal Translator was still collecting data for comparison, and would probably be able to begin translating very soon.  They would record all conversations and review them later once the language was understood, but for now, this symbolic first contact was meant as a brief meeting.

Just at that moment he heard a gurgle and thump from his left side.  The bio monitor in the corner of Snu's vision indicated one of his men had dropped dead. Alarmed Snu ripped his hand free and retreated back towards the ramp, he crouched and his ears went up.  Almost unconsciously he raised his battle shield with a hum then everything went quiet, his HUD automatically swept his surroundings looking for threats.  Soon he established what had happened, insects.  A small insect had landed on Lieutenant and bit him, bit him!  Was this an attack?  Were these people attacking them?  Why, then, would they remain so near to such an obvious biological attack?  Just then the HUD alarms started going off and little specks of light started coming up.  Everywhere, the entire planet was infested!  Billions of them just within this little clearing, and the locals, they seemed completely oblivious!

"Retreat to the ship!" Snu ordered, and before he'd made it up the ramp they were already in flight.  Snu went straight to his command station and opened a communications channel with the homeworld.

"Sir, the first contact did not go well, first observations indicate that 'insects' are native to this planet and achieve unfathomably high populations!" The Admiral's fir stood on end and his ears went back.  "I recommend a total and complete annihilation of the star system, it's the only way we can be sure the infestation doesn't spread to other planets."

"Agreed," the admiral replied gravely.  "You will need to remain in system and prevent any vessels from leaving, although I gather from your earlier report that is unlikely.  We will begin dispatching the armada in preparation for Nova Induction"  The Admiral paused and took a deep breath. "Your vessel may have also been infested, you and your crew will have 3 days to prepare for the arrival of the fleet, make peace with your families and say farewell."

Commander Snu acknowledged the order wordlessly then terminated the transmission.  His crew knew the risks and would do their duty gladly.  There was no sufficiently effective way to sterilize against an insect threat, and any number could have laid their eggs or flown into the ship during their brief landing.

Who would have thought when they woke up this morning that they would be landing on the deadliest world in the known universe?

Originally written for: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3m6dux/wp_when_aliens_land_on_earth_it_is_quickly/

Rant: Corolla Rental House

I'm leaving out the address we stayed at for obvious privacy reasons and to protect the guilty

Once upon a time this property may have been "252 yards from the beach" (330 according to Google Maps).  From our conversations with neighbors who had rented their houses in previous years, according to the neighbors this hasn't been true for more than a year, the fences were up when they were here the same week last year, and the maintenance guy we met said the fence was put up about 8 months ago.  Maybe he meant 18 months.  This is where our problem started.  We rented this property with the understanding we would have a relatively short walk to the beach and arrived to find a 6 foot tall fence along the backyard with dozens of "No Trespassing: Violators will be prosecuted" signs along the back.  These signs very clearly block the path to the beach.  The only alternative routes take you North or South a few hundred yards and the routes add up to more than 900 yard walks.  The beach accesses all have "No loading or unloading" signs in front of them which means that for folks who rented here expecting a short walk (or drive) to the beach for small children and elderly family we were in for a rude surprise.  It seems that if their goal was to make it difficult to get to the beach, they succeeded.  We spent the first several days we were here trying to get the rental property to do something about it.  They advertised a 252 yard walk, we'd settle for 350.  The maintenance guy offered to put a gate in the fence but said he'd need to contact the owner of the adjoining property first, whom I think he made his opinion quite clear with the signs threatening prosecution. When the false advertising lawyers got involved, the rental property stalled on giving us any firm resolution.  Halfway through we gave up on getting them to give us any resolution while we were here.  I'm sure there will be further follow up, but in the meantime we tried to make the best of our vacation.

Which leads me to the generally poor status and disrepair of this property.  I mean, on the surface, this is a beautiful home, the layout is a bit strange and perhaps inefficient.  It's rare that you have to spend time exploring and drawing maps to find your way around, but it's a good looking house nonetheless, nicely furnished and very spacious.  We found the kitchen to be reasonably stocked with cookware (no waffle maker, but now I'm being picky).  By the end of the second day, however; we had a laundry list of broken fixtures and generally dangerous oversights.  We sat down in the basement and turned on the TV only to discover someone hard of hearing had been the last person to use it. Fine but it turns out the volume down button on the remote does nothing.  Covering our ears and approaching the television with our faces averted we managed to get the volume turned down to a survivable level.  It turns out two of the TVs didn't work at all, the equipment was improperly installed and configured.  Later that evening we pulled out the trundle bed in the basement and were stopped short.  The frame was so warped that the bed didn't even pull out properly.  I guess it could work if you like hammocks. That don't move. At all. A maintenance guy came by and spent the afternoon hammering on the thing and got it to pull out and hold the mattress in a mostly flat way, but it was still terribly uncomfortable.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the house, a few of us walked into one of the Queen bedrooms and turn on the light.  Or half the lights, as the other half of the bulbs were all dead, one of the end table lamps has a short in it and therefore wouldn't stay on unless you stand in front of it repeatedly shaking the end-table. Not how I want to spend my vacation.  I attempted to change one of the bulbs in the ceiling fan only to have the glass fall out of the fixture because the glue had apparently melted and ended up with a shock. By the third night the lights in the downstairs area had stopped turning on altogether. We're doomed to a life of darkness and eyestrain. And I wanted to do some reading!

There is a large shared bathroom between the bedroom with the two twin beds and the one with the bunk bed where the ventilation fan apparently doesn't work.  We see the fan, and several switches but nothing turns it on. Remind me to take my constitutionals somewhere else.

We were there in the middle of August and it was, as we expected, hot.  The house has Air Conditioning but it only seems to be capable of keeping the top floor cool.  This is fine during the day as it's where the majority of the food and socializing happens but at night we quickly realized something was wrong in the bedrooms.  Vents are open, we can feel a slight cool breeze, but with two people in these bedrooms were unable to keep them cool.  Our first night, with AC on our room got up to 90.  The master suite was 65.  I'm not an expert but something seems wrong here, maybe there's an obstruction in one of the ducts?

My grandfather who arranged this trip and generously reserved the house for everyone at no cost to us was livid at this point, he spent at least an hour a day on the phone with lawyers or the property managers. As a career politician he's learned to ask nicely in many different ways but he didn't seem to be making any headway. About halfway through our trip he settled down after one such phone call with a newspaper and a beer only to suddenly find himself on the floor. The chair he'd sat on had simply fallen apart, not broken but rapidly disassembled itself underneath him, flinging him backwards into the bay windows and then dropping him on the floor.

And these were just the highlights. Needless to say was not a happy customer and would not buy again.