Category: Commerce

Products, services, marketing, names

The car that isn’t there

Taken some time ago, this would be impossible tonight because the car is in the shop where they’re fixing the problem they said they had fixed a week ago. At that time, they were going to clean or replace the acceleration sensor to fix the hesitation the car has had for a couple years. Instead they replaced the ignition coil, which helped. For a few days.

Evening now approaches on day two. I hope they know what they’re doing this time. If last time is a clue, they’ll probably call at 7:30 PM or so to tell me it’s ready so I can jump on my bike and ride to get it AT THAT MOMENT.

Volquete #2 se va

I was there when the truck arrived to remove our second ‘dumpster.’ I know the driver  because I had one at our house in town, and also because he refilled the oxygen tank when our son was doing glass work here. He told me he was ‘breaking his head’ until he realized I was the guy who lived in town, not another American who lives in Las Vegas (seriously), a few kilometers up the coast, who drives the same car I do.

No, I replied, he’s actually German, and his wife is Dutch. Smallish world.

The empty volquete was pushed aside to allow a delivery of fencing materials. Before filling it, the two workers and I jockeyed it to line up with the gate. When he removed it, the grass underneath was flattened and not too happy, however much happier than being cooked by the harsh sun on the metal bottom of the empty container – notice the yellow patch to the left. Who’d a thunk?

Staying organized’s a bitch

Noticed this at my shade-tree mechanic’s today. Apparently someone is not real good at putting tools back – note missing wrenches on left, and outlier orange-and-black screwdriver (red arrow).

Apparently spray-painting outlines of tools involves issues as well. Yellow arrows point to vice grips camouflaged with black paint, so that they disappear into their black outlines.

Which is OK. I don’t really want a mechanic working on my car with vice grips.

boWINdow

After a horrible experience with an aluminum shop that truly cares for neither quality nor customer service (if you’re local, think of the initials of the major competitor to the major hamburger chain and look on the Ruta Interbalnearia), a friend referred me to a friendly mom & pop operation.

Satisfied with my first window, I went back to them with a simple diagram of what I wanted next: a ‘bulging’ window for the kitchen. I had a diagram from the top. I had a perspective drawing. They had no idea what I was after? A hood for a stove? This went on for a while, until finally, exasperated, I said se llama ‘bay window’ in ingles, at which the proprietor threw his hands in the air, with a prolonged aahhhh! and slumped back in his chair with a huge smile.

Problem solved! You just need to know to say boWINdow.

The flete

Anticipating holiday guests, a friend asked me to arrange transport (a flete) for her stuff, filling the guest space, to another friend’s shipping container in the country. With a local reference, I produced a hard-working driver with an ancient truck that did not inspire confidence.

flete1

But it worked just fine. The second of two trips. Truck: 1954 Commer.

Consumer goods in Uruguay tend to be shoddy, so bringing decent things when you move here makes sense. Linens and towels. Clothing. Hand tools, even comfortable chairs and a couch. Still, I marvel (sometimes poetically) at the quantity of stuff people feel the need to import.

Or perhaps I should say, feel the need to possess.

The 40′ container is now perhaps 60% full. Of unused stuff.