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Mirror, mirror, on the flip side of the wall

To: fot@autox.team.net
Subject: Mirror, mirror, on the flip side of the wall
From: Mark J Bradakis <mjb@autox.team.net>
Date: Sun, 25 Aug 2002 01:19:01 -0600 (MDT)
So a couple of weeks ago I head down to the shop towhack on whatever, most
likely the TR7 project.  Taped to all the doors of the complex is a sheet
of paper.  It basically says "We're raising your rent by an amazingly greedy
percentage (Okay, a mere 68%) on October 1st.  But if you move to one of the
shops on the south side, we'll only raise it by 16%."  I guess they want to
keep all us low life automotive type guys in one area where they can keep an
eye on us.

So finally today I get to talk to the resident manager, and we make plans to
move me from Unit 22 to Unit 59.  And I have this odd feeling as I leave his
office that there's something special about Unit 59.  I zip around to the
other side of the building and realize that Unit 59 shares the back wall with
Unit 22.  It was the shop that had that two chord garage band in it for a
while that drove me nuts on a regular basis.

I'm planning to talk to the real managers, see if I can get permission to pop
out some of the sheetrock in the back wall for the move.  It would be much
nicer if things like the lathe, the full size fridge and the 80 gallon
compressor only had to move a few feet instead of a few hundred.  But I have
visions of spending a hot, miserable afternoon moving the lathe to end up in
a spot only two feet further south from where it sits now.

Gee, I can see Bob Allred busily checking race schedules so he'll happen to
be out of town the next half dozen weekends or so, and Pugs lining up some
meetings back at the home office - they won't be able to assist in heaving,
grunting, pushing and prodding the contents of the current shop to the new
location.  Guys, I promise to provide food and beverage for the work weekends.
And as you might imagine, it won't be beef-flavored, food-product patties on
the grill, it will be more like hickory smoked turkey breast, or Jamaican
style jerked chicken wings, or a big ol' pork shoulder, or a Pugs' style
brisket or even some mesquite grilled ribeye steaks.

Enough prattling.  I'm amused that I'm going to be putting so much effort into
moving stuff only *that* far.  So it goes.

mjb.

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