Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Small town with benefits
The other day when I was in too much of a hurry to let the smokin' hot x-ray tech student slip me her phone number, she and I happened to be talking about the places we had in common along the Italian Riviera. I mentioned in passing that back in the day, some of my less enlightened shipmates had a propensity to limit their cultural immersion on liberty.
In other words, once they debarked at Fleet Landing, their list of places to visit was limited to two. McDonald's and the closest bar.
I've got nothing against McDonald's or bars, heaven knows, but in Italy? Or France? Greece? Spain? Israel? And the list goes on.
One of the really cool things to do, imo, was to find a nice hole-in-the-wall Mom & Pop restaurant, pull out a phrase book, and figure out how to say, "I'm hungry, please feed me." Memorable meals.
Now what does that have to do with a "small town with benefits?"
Pretty much nothing. Just a random thought pinging around in my head as I sat down to write. Or type. Or key. Whatever.
This morning I needed a particular tractor loader part. It's just a pin, but it's kind of a specialty item and tricky to source. I need it in order to finish a job that needs finishing. No loader, no finishing the job. No pin, no loader. Not a screaming emergency but I'd like to have it by next week. Failing that, whenever will actually be fine. I'll just have to put finishing the job off until later than I'd prefer. But it'll be okay.
I roll into the parts house. "Hey Dave, you remember that loader pin from a couple years ago?"
"158 on a 4240, right?"
Shit, it's my loader and I can't remember the numbers, I have to write them down on the back of my hand!
"I found a place. Have it for you in the morning."
Five minutes later I roll into the hospital clinic. I've only just remembered to get a prescription refilled. I'd like to have it done by Friday but Saturday will work. Giving them a couple of days notice instead of waiting until the last moment is the polite and considerate way to go. At the counter I give the receptionist a scribbled note with my name, phone, the medication and dosage.
"It's no emergency, Friday or Saturday will be fine."
Before I'm halfway back out to the ranch my phone rings.
"It's Sharon from the clinic, I just called your refill in so you can pick it up any time."
It's one of the advantages of living in a small town. We may not be able to get scented tofu or the ever-popular black currant vaping sticks here, but I don't think many folks in the more populated areas can walk into a parts house and a medical clinic, spit out 20 words combined, and get a specialty part coming and a prescription refill arranged. In no more than 15 minutes.
It's pretty cool.
And leaves me plenty of time to move cows to the south unit.