Vehicle Restoration: Part II

(...continued from Part I)

Finally the watch commander, Sergeant Pessis, arrived on the scene. He quickly identified our situation. He could see the fees were paid, and that it would be a great inconvenience for me to return to the Bay Area without my truck. He phoned the antagonist, Ronny, and told him to release the vehicle. When grumpy Ronny restated his reasons for keeping the vehicle our hero said, "I'm the main guy here. Put it on me." We liked Sergeant Pessis.

We returned to the yard where Ronny still made us a wait for a while. Eventually, I paid a ridiculous fee to reacquire my own automobile, because someone else stole it from me. Finally, it was towed to a nearby spot on the street. Now we had my vehicle, but no key.

Earlier in the tow yard I learned from a friendly employee, not named Ronny, that old trucks like mine were often easy to steal. The ignition can be worn down enough a key from another truck of the same model would often work in either automobile.

We called a few different locksmiths until we were quoted a price of $80 to make a new key. The locksmith said he would be arriving in a green Mustang in 45 minutes. He showed up over an hour later, but in the Mustang as promised. The driver was a large white guy wearing a wife-beater displaying his heavily tattooed arms. His sidekick, an even larger black guy, remained in the passenger seat talking on his cell phone. Their appearance led you to believe they may have been late because they stopped to buy some marijuana on the way.

After we explained the situation to him he returned from the Mustang with a key and file. He then proceeded, by hand, to file the key down until it would open my truck. The process took about 45 minutes. I asked our "locksmith" if he knew if it was easy to steal a car like mine. The white guy, in his wife-beater, who was filing a key by hand, looked straight at me and said, "I don't know nothin' about stealin' cars." I accepted his answer and didn't inquire as to how he got into the trade.

Finally, with the process nearing an end, his black counterpart finished the cell phone conversation and emerged from the Mustang. Upon their arrival I expected him to have some part in the process, but I observed no participation. So I said to the well-built black guy, that was twice my size, "So what do you do here? Nothing?" The good-humored gentleman responded, "I'm security. I got people all around here surrounding this place. You're lucky I didn't wear my hat today, because if I turn it backwards they shoot." We all laughed. I don't know if Mark was more amused from his answer or that I was willing to ask that guy the question.

The two-sided key only worked one way, but it would get us home. We paid our $80, and after I requested it, we received a makeshift receipt with a couple things scribbled on it. So I finally had my truck back and it felt great. I was so happy to see it. I wanted to give my truck a hug, but I don't really know how one would hug an automobile. I also wanted to give Sergeant Pessis a hug, but didn't know how that would be received. We dropped the rental at the Enterprise near LAX, and with my new key, old truck, a gallon of water, and three people, we joyfully headed north to the Bay Area.