Around in Circles

I’m mostly writing this so I can copy a link to it on every laptop buying post i see, so I don’t have to repeat myself, lol. Maybe it’s good advice, you can tell me how wrong I am in the comment section below.

My experience with buying laptops for background – I work in IT, and for years managed helpdesk where we bought laptops for corporate users. I also run a small youtube channel where I review laptops – something I have done for over a decade, where I typically buy a couple of dozen laptops a year, and also get loaners to review from manufacturers. I touch a lot of laptops every single year.

I’ll go through some generic questions I see a lot of and then the steps I would mentally go through when I buy.

Mac VS windows VS Linux –
This comes down to app support and the eco system you want to buy into.
Macs are great if you are a mac person OR you use software that runs great on Macs. you have an iphone, ipad, and you run adobe/final cut pro? Get a mac. It’s an easy eco system to stay in with a lot of benefits. You run Auto cad? they don’t support macs or linux, so you’re stuck on windows. Do some research on the software you know you’re going to be using. Personally I own laptops running several flavors of linux, windows, and several macs. I 99% use my mac to manage my kids phones/parental controls. Their parental controls roll over the the macs so I don’t have to do anything different, it makes my life easier. I use my windows laptop (Thinkpad P1 Gen 7) 75% of the time I use a laptop. it’s just easier for me and the workflow I run. my job requires me to use teams, and teams sucks on anything but a windows computer… I mean it sucks on windows too, just… slightly less. This is a personal decision, base it on the software you plan on running. hardware wise, Macs are better than consumer grade laptops, but once you look at business class systems, that gap narrows. Linux has one big issue, There are too many versions/flavors, as a new person stepping into that world it can be overwhelming, especially when you are trying to replace the applications you use in windows with linux ones, or finding workarounds, or just trying to do basic tasks that are muscle memory in windows. It’s worth it to break free of the microslop trash environment, but it does have a learning curve. I think this will get better in the coming years.

New VS Used –
You will almost always get more value out of a lightly used laptop than new, However, there is value in being the first/only owner of a system, especially when it comes to warranty, battery/storage health. This is more budget focused, but I tend to steer people to used more often than new, since if you are limited on budget, your money will go a lot further used. (a $600 used system will probably be a lot better than a $600 new system).

Brand –
My personal opinion is brand does not matter nearly as much as product line. I personally will never buy a consumer grade laptop again. HP elitebook/zBook, Dell Precision/Latitude, and the Lenovo Thinkpad lines are often better built, with better materials, better hinges, better thermal designs. etc. They are sold/leased to companies in bulk on a discount with long 3-5 year warranties. it does not behoove the manufacturer to cheap out on these systems. It would cost them far more in warranty claims than they would save going cheap. The drawback? you don’t get all the fancy flashy new stuff. You may get a lower quality screen, you may give up a bit of performance, or go with a generation or two older CPU for the same price as a consumer grade system. However, the number of people who still daily drive a thinkpad after 10+ years of constant use are a testament to their build quality, I have a zBook that is now over 10 years old that gets regular use. Every time I get asked a recommendation in person, it is to buy a business class laptop. Period.

Gaming laptops –
My recommendation is just don’t. Game on a desktop, or lower your expectations on a non gaming laptop. I’ve owed close to a dozen of all brands – acer, azus, HP, lenovo, Dell. Almost all of them have cooked themselves to death shortly after the warranty ran up or they had some other major issue with a component that cost more to fix than the laptop was worth. And yes, I know that people go to great lengths to undervolt, and play with fan curves, but 1) you shouldn’t have to do that with a new laptop, and 2) most people are NOT technically savvy enough to know to to that much less how to do it. And avoid them at all costs used. They are being sold because they are already broken, and the seller wants to offload their broken junk, lol. Not worth it. If you can snag one on a smoking deal on like cyber monday sale, and you just figure you’re setting that money on fire, I guess go for it, but take the time and make sure you take the steps to protect your investment.

How old is too old? –
I don’t recommend going more than 5 years old on a system, Try to buy as new of system that allows in your budget. If you can go less than 3 years the number of times I’ve been able to buy a laptop that still had a year left of factory warranty left that I was able to use is not insignificant. Time is money, A couple of laptops I know well, a T480 and a T14 Gen 2 amd, the T14 gen 2 is more than 2x faster than a T480, has better screens, better storage performance, etc. but they run about the same price wise, and often people pay MORE for the T480. It doesn’t make sense. Why would you pay the same/more for worse performance that means the things you are doing on your laptop will take longer to do? A laptop is a tool to do a job, why would you want to do that job slower?

Soldered ram vs socketed –
Obviously having ram be soldered has drawbacks, but it also means it can’t be scalped right now, I just would make sure I am buying something with sufficient ram, minimum 16gb, preferably 32, but be prepared to pay. If the price is less than a system with socketed ram having 16gb being upgraded to 32gb and the 16gb dimms being sold after, I would buy it, otherwise I would stick to something with socketed ram, or make sure I don’t over pay for the soldered ram laptop knowing it won’t last me as long as one where I could possibly upgrade down the road.

Dedicated GPU or not.
this comes down to personal workload, I have a laptop with a dGPU, I like to play games on my laptop as well as run some local LLM stuff and video editing, and while integrated ones have become SO much better in the last couple of years, they don’t replace a proper dGPU for some of these workoads. That being said, there are a lot of drawbacks, dGPUs in laptops can very wildly depending on year/model, for many years, they served to basically be in compliance with CAD software and support more screens at higher resolutions, and were barely any faster than integrated GPUs when it came to gaming. Driver support for them can be pretty terrible. They are also pretty hard on battery life, even when you do everything you can to use the integrated GPU as much as possible. Do you research on what laptops come with GPUs in your price range, and do the research on specific models. There is too much variance here to put in this post.

360 folding hinge laptops-
I always recommend against these, they seem to have gotten more reliable over the years, but they tend to have hinge and cable problems over time. they are also often carried while on the go and dropped while on the go. I’ve had some recently that my kids are using that have held up well, but I also see them fail in the field too often to spend my money on them.

So the steps I go through when buying:

1. Set a budget. be pretty firm about this budget, and include all the costs (taxes, shipping, upgrades you may want to do). If you’re looking at laptops and you know you need a 1tb storage drive, see what is cheaper, finding a laptop that already has one, or buying one after market, etc.
2. figure out what your software’s minimum and recommended software requirements are. Do you need a dedicated GPU? do you need a specific amount of ram. etc.
3. figure out what features you really need, do you need HDMI? thunderbolt 4? an ethernet port? what features can you live without, and don’t want to pay extra for.

Step 4 is a BIG one. Don’t be desperate, don’t be in a hurry, this next part takes time, if you rush, you always over pay or buy something that is not right.

Then start your search. I’m in the US, and live in BFE, so I buy the majority of my systems on ebay, but there are other sources. Lenovo has an outlet site where they sell new old stock and refurbished systems, sometimes their prices are terrible, but sometimes they are fantastic. Everybody runs sales, especially around holidays. Amazon also is a place you can buy systems, but Their prices are not always great.

I start with my price first, and just see what is available. see what looks good to me, and start narrowing down my options. ebay lets you really filter stuff when you search, CPU generations, Ram amount, etc. and then I narrow it down to a couple of systems that make the most sense, and do my research on those to make sure there are no gotchas I’m not aware of.

Your goal is to buy as NEW of a system that fits your budget and your system requirements based off the software you want to run.

If somebody came to me to day and asked me for a straight laptop recommendation it would be –

General use: a Thinkpad T series, the newest one you can buy.

If you need as powerful of a system as you can buy: a P series.

In my 15+ years of buying every kind of laptop you can think of, all manufacturers have had their ups and down, some years are better than others, but thinkpads have had the best consistency and I don’t have to worry about it being an issue for the end user. But if given more time and more specifics/needs there are some great HP and Dell Laptops out there (and some stinkers).

Recently a reporter reached out to me on Reddit asking for an interview on why I invest in precious metals. I thought it would be a good opportunity to write out some of the reasons I personally invest. When you talk to anybody, especially those who sell PMs, PMs are “a hedge against inflation” or “a sure investment” that’s all marketing bullshit. Any asset of value is “a hedge against inflation”, everything from food, to land, guns + ammo, If you have a hard asset you hold that somebody else wants will eventually go up in value as the dollar inflates or as the demand for it rises. It’s also not a sure investment, Gold goes up, it goes down. Like anything else, it has value because other people want it more than you do, so you’re willing to trade it for a value that makes sense to both of you. It earns no interest, pays no dividends, provides no ownership in anything other than itself. It is just a super shiny rock…. A rock that a lot of other people want. 

Before I go into the why’s of buying PMs, let me go into the how much. 

I see a lot of guys posting on the /r/gold or /r/silverbugs subreddits, asking about dumping their entire life savings into PMs. I think this is one of the dumbest things somebody can do. Before investing in anything, you should have 0 consumer debt. No car loans, no credit card debt, no personal or payday loans. Once you are debt free, then you should start investing into land. That should be your #1 investment, mostly a privately owned house. IF it makes sense for you to buy a house. If you already have a house or it does not make sense for you to own a house (like if you travel or move a lot for your work), then your next big investment should be mutual funds. I do not buy individual stocks. That’s gambling. I have a few different funds I invest in. I’m pretty conservative in that regard. Roth IRA, 401K, and my HSA savings that is then invested within the HSA. 

After you have 0 debt and have a solid foundation in your more regular investments. I think it’s then OK to invest in what I like to call “hard assets” or collectables, things you own you can touch and use that have value. I have quite a few of these. I have sealed trading cards from the likes of Magic the Gathering, as well as pokemon. I have some high end firearms, art pieces, and classic vehicles. I also collect vintage electronics and video games. I enjoy buying them and refurbishing them. These are all part of my total net worth. I keep track of values and buy/sell as I can make substantial profit, and move to the next thing. 

Precious metals are another hard asset I include in my total net worth. I have my number set at between 3 and 5% of my total networth in PMs. If that amount drops below 3% I buy aggressively. If it goes above 5%, I stop buying entirely. If it’s between the two I’ll buy something that I either really like or is a really great price. But I never buy if it is going to be a strain on my finances. I never want to buy if it means I would have to maybe sell later or will cause me financial hardship. 

Now as to why I started with precious metals. I see it more of an insurance. There is a non 0 chance the US dollar will either become worthless or hit such a high inflation rate that gold/silver could be a means of trade, and I would rather trade shiny rocks for food than starve to death. There is also a non 0 percent chance we would have to flee where we live, and bringing some gold/silver coins is a lot easier than stacks of dollar bills. 

But that is like the emergency food supplies I buy. I buy that just in case of the worst, expecting to never have to use it outside of rotating through it every few months. 

I also love it, Touching it, feeling it, hearing it. Gold and silver make an almost musical tone when struck. There is just something about it that makes it special. 

But the real strong reason I buy it is because when my father in law died he had nothing to leave to his kids/grandkids. Nothing to remember him by, nothing to tie his life to his posterity’s memories. I buy gold and silver to commemorate special moments, achievements, or celebrate something my kids love. Then when I pass, they’ll get it. They’ll each have a piece (or many) to remember me with. Something that will endure, something of real value. I hope my real legacy is them remembering me, and them living the best lives they possibly can, but there is something special about holding something that belonged to a loved one. My oldest is still a teenager, so no grandkids in the near future, but I hope that I am able to pass these down to them as well. 

I have a chronic illness, I probably won’t live as long as I would like to. So it’s even more important to me to leave something behind, if I die before my kids are really old enough to remember me. 

Are precious metals the best way to do this? Maybe not. I do a lot with my kids to make memories and to share the things I love with them; I just hope that this is one of the many things that lasts long after I’m gone. And that simply by holding a coin, it will bring back memories.

The Aerial Maneuver

“C’mon, f*ckface, let’s go for a test drive.”

Felonious Monk and I had been going back-and-forth for more than a week about one particular silver VR6 Jetta in the inventory at Dishonest Used Car Dealership that had a clunk in its front suspension. He’d fix it, I’d test drive it, and the clunk would be back. Every time you went over a big enough bump you’d get an ugly clunk. These kinds of problems are notoriously hard to fix, since suspension systems on modern cars are complex and it’s impossible to simulate the kind of forces a suspension system sees when the car is on the lift. Usually what winds up happening is you just throw parts at the problem until the problem goes away, which is exactly what we were doing.

My technician hopped in the driver’s seat and I in the passenger’s, and we drove off on our test drive. Felonious Monk was a simply horrific driver. Lane markings and red lights were apparently only suggestions. We went a couple of miles around town in the car, him listening for the clunking noise, and me holding on for dear life.

FM: “Well? You satisfied? I don’t hear sh!t.”

Me: “I’m not convinced. Pull into that parking lot and hit some speed bumps.”

Clearly irritated with me, he did as directed, hitting a few speed bumps in rapid succession at about six million miles-per-hour. On the last bump, I heard it.

Me: “There! There it was. That little clunk when the suspension came down.”

FM: “What clunk? You’re making sh!t up.”

Me: “I swear. I’m still hearing it, man.”

FM: “Fine. Whatever. I still don’t hear it.”

Felonious Monk whipped the car around and screeched out of the parking lot. Instead of turning left back to the shop, he turned right.

Me: “Where are we going?”

FM: “There’s a little hill over here that has a bump on it. I want to see if I can hear it.”

A minute later, we arrived at said little hill. Except it was not little, not even remotely. The road dropped a good 250 feet in about a quarter mile and the “bump” Felonious Monk advertised turned out to be a set of railroad tracks. Something stupid was about to happen.

Me: “Don’t you f*cking dare.”

Felonious Monk grinned and stomped the accelerator to the floor. The six-cylinder under the hood roared and launched us forward. We careened down the hill toward the railroad tracks. I didn’t have the courage to look over at the speedometer, but we were moving. At the railroad crossing, the road flattened out for perhaps 25 feet. In the span of less than a second, the suspension came down, sprung back up, and as we left the flat section onto the remainder of the hill, the suspension crashed back down again with a bang. Felonious Monk slowed our descent and turned us off onto a side street. He grinned at me.

FM: “There, I heard it that time.”

Me: “You’re an asshole. That’s the car hitting its bumpstops.”

FM: “I know. Hey, guess what?”

Me: “What?”

FM: “I heard it in the parking lot too.”

He danced around in his seat a bit, clearly pleased at his victory.

Me: “Seriously f*ck you.”

He turned us around, and we went back to the shop for another round of trying to figure out what was clunking around in the suspension.

”Hey, y’all know anythin’ about that there black Jetta that came in on a flatbed this morning?”

Colossal Redneck was in my office one Monday morning, inquiring about a car that had just mysteriously appeared on the back of a tow truck. This happens more often than you’d imagine: you’ll just come in in the morning and there’s a car sitting in your lot with absolutely no information about who owns it or what they want done with it.

Me: “I poked my head under it. It’s missing its belly pan, and the oil pan looks like it’s got a gnarly crack in it. Other than that, all I know is that it’s an ’04 with a VR6. I punched up the VIN, and it’s one we sold a while back, but the number listed just goes straight to voicemail.”

Without a repair order there was nothing much we could do except let it sit in the lot dripping oil until the owner checked in with us.

Thursday morning. The phone rings.

Me: “Service, this is 36055512.”

On the other end of the line was the single fastest-talking human being ever made.

”GoodmorningIamwiththelawfirmDeweyCheatemandHowe,I’mcallingonbehalfofmyclientwhohada2004VolkswagenJettadeliveredtoyourlocationonoraboutMondaythe23rd.”

Me: “Whoa. Is this the black ’04 Jetta with the cracked oil pan?”

Thankfully, Mr. Ambulancechaser Esquire slowed his roll a bit so I could actually figure out what the f*ck he was talking about.

The Lawyer: “Yes, that is my client’s vehicle.”

Me: “Oh good, I’m glad someone called. It came in with no paperwork or instructions, so we weren’t sure what you would like done with it.”

The Lawyer: “Yes, my client is wondering when you will be replacing the engine in it.”

Me: “Uh… is that what your client wants done? I can build a quote for you and send it your way.”

The Lawyer: “Why is a quote necessary?”

Me: “So your client knows how much this is going to cost him or her?”

The lawyer laughed condescendingly.

The Lawyer: “No, you’re failing to understand, this will cost my client nothing.”

Me: “Oooookay. Why don’t we back up a bit and you tell me what’s going on.”

The lawyer went back into turbo-mode.

The Lawyer: “OnoraboutthedateofSaturdaythe21st,myclientwasdrivinginthe2004VolkswagenJetta,henceforthknownas”thevehicle”soldtohimbyanagentofDishonestUsedCarDealershipwhen,inhiswords,the”enginefelloutofthevehicleandoilwenteverywhere.”MyclientthenhadthevehicletowedtoyourlocationsothatyourcompanymayaffordrepairstothevehicleinaccordancetothewarrantyagreementsignedbymyclientandtheagentofDishonestUsedCarDealership…”

He continued on for some time.

“…myclientassertsthatrepairsconductedtothevehiclepriortohispurchasewereconductedneglegentlyandrecklesslyandasaresulttheengineofthevehiclevacateditselffromtheenginebaycreatingadangertomyclientandproducingconsequentialdamages…”

Me: “Okay, so let me make sure I understand this correctly. Your client is claiming that the engine “fell out of the car,” which cracked the oil pan, and he wants a new engine under warranty, is that correct?”

The Lawyer: “That is correct.”

Me: “Alright, well, the engine “falling out” would be unusual to say the least. We’ll have to investigate and I’ll get back to you with our findings.”

I took down the lawyer’s information and promised him a call later in the day. I hung up and walked over to Colossal Redneck’s office to relay the situation.

Me: “So, that Jetta with the cracked oil pan. You ain’t gonna believe this, but I just got a call from the customer’s attorney.”

CR: “They got the lawyers on us already, huh?”

Me: “Yep. They’re claiming we somehow caused the “engine to fall out.””

CR: “Uh… huh? That’s… that ain’t really a thing that happens.”

Me: “Customer wants a new engine on our dime.”

CR: “Uh, that ain’t really a thing that’s gonna happen.”

Me: “Agreed. I told ‘em we’d look it over and be in touch.”

We went outside and popped the hood. Aside from the missing belly pan and cracked oil pan, everything appeared to be in order. All the motor mounts were holding fast, and the engine hadn’t migrated anywhere it wasn’t supposed to. The oil pan had huge scrape marks along its length, which combined with the conspicuously-missing belly pan led us to only one conclusion.

Me: “I’ve got a verdict.”

CR: “Customer dun bottomed his car out and wants us ‘ta pay for it?”

Me: “Mmmhmm.”

We went back inside and Colossal Redneck called the customer’s attorney. I couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but from what I gathered, the lawyer was having none of it. Colossal Redneck hung up and shook his head.

Me: “So?”

CR: “Sounds like he’s gonna come and make an appearance. I guess they wanna dispute this in person or somethin’.”

Later that afternoon, a black Passat pulled into the driveway and a man piled out. Even from all the way across the parking lot, I could tell this guy was some kind of intergalactic space douchebag. His polyester suit reeked of cheap and his person reeked of cheap cologne.

Me: “Hi, I’m 36055512.”

I held out my hand. He looked at it and refused to shake it.

The Lawyer: ”I believe you have my client’s car.”

I led him over to where we had the Jetta stashed. Colossal Redneck already had the hood open.

CR: “Howdy, sir. Name’s Colossal Redneck. We spoke on the phone.”

He held his hand out. The lawyer stared at him.

CR: “Y’all got a name I can address ya’ by?”

The Lawyer: “Sir is fine.”

CR: “Uh… okay, sir. We’ve had a look over yer Jetta, and there’s nothin’ wrong with how the engine is sittin’ in the engine bay. It sure didn’t “fall out,” anyway. It looks like yer client might’a hit a hard bump or somethin’ and cracked the oil pan.”

The Lawyer: “I doubt that very much.”

Me: “I’m not sure what to tell you. The engine is sitting firmly where it’s supposed to.”

The Lawyer: “Yes, and there’s a simple reason for that. As soon as your culpability in this was shown to you, you went and put the engine back where it’s supposed to be.”

Me: “One, no, and two, if you look under the car, the VR6 pan hangs down quite a bit. It’s also missing its belly pan, which indicates to me that something, most likely the road surface, contacted the underside of the car.”

The lawyer looked at me and rolled his eyes. He reached over and slammed the hood closed.

The Lawyer: “Watch this.”

He placed his palms on the hood of the car and pushed it down an inch or two.

The Lawyer: “Do you see that? That’s the car bottoming out, and it was nowhere near hitting the oil pan on the ground.”

Me: “Okay, there are so many assumptions you have wrong here, I don’t even know where to start. That was nowhere near bottoming out. There’s no way a 170 lb guy can exert the same kind of forces that the suspension sees on a hard bump. Also, roads have a crown to them and irregularities in the pavement that our driveway does not. It is entirely possible for the oil pan to have contacted the ground on this car, especially with how low the VR6 oil pan hangs.”

Before I had a chance to debate further with the lawyer, Felonious Monk came up and grabbed my attention.

FM: “Hey dude. I changed out the sway bar bushings in that Jetta to try and get that clunk out of the suspension. Let’s take it for a test drive when you have a minute.”

I turned to Colossal Redneck.

Me: “Hey, I’m leaving this in your hands. Have fun!”

For all the times he had thrown me under the bus or left me big steaming piles of sh!t to clean up, he could handle a difficult customer for once.

Felonious Monk and I got into the clunking Jetta and once again lurched out of the parking lot to try and chase down any remnants of the noise in the suspension. He drove us back over to the parking lot with the speed bumps, and for all the world, it looked like he had done it. The suspension was quiet. We pulled out of the lot, once again to the right instead of left. I protested.

Me: “Not again, you asshole.”

Felonious Monk just cackled. We pulled to the top of the giant hill. Felonious Monk slid the transmission into neutral and revved the engine to redline. He slammed the shifter back into drive, and the car launched down the hill as we were serenaded by howling tires and a screaming six-cylinder.

We came to the flat section where the tracks crossed. In a split second, the suspension crashed down and catapulted back up. The road dropped away. The engine roared, signaling our front tires were no longer in contact with the pavement. The nose came back down and the entire front of the car crashed into the asphalt with a huge bang. A handful of other noises followed as our car shed pieces of itself.

FM: “Oh sh!t! Oh f*ck! Oh sh!t!”

He whipped the wheel to the side and stomped the brakes, ABS jerking us to a stop on the side of the road. I got out and looked over what he had done. 50 yards behind the car was its belly pan, with the entire front bumper not far away. Most conspicuous, however, was a trail of brown liquid forming underneath the car.

Me: “You stupid f*ck. Are you kidding me?”

I pulled out my phone and dialed Colossal Redneck’s cell. He answered.

Me: “So, uh, I have good news and bad news. The good news is we have just found irrefutable evidence that a VR6 oil pan can indeed come into contact with the ground. The bad news is you’ll need to come over here with the tow rig to come get it.”

Epilogue:

Felonious Monk’s test flight was at least enough evidence to convince the lawyer to go away for the afternoon, especially since as soon as we got back to the shop, the three of us immediately started yelling at each other and ignoring him. The lawyer left the shop with the threat of his client suing, but the threat turned out to be empty, and for reasons none of us could have expected.

It was the following morning, and Colossal Redneck was shouting at me from his office.

CR: “HEY, HEY, C’MERE AN’ LOOK AT THIS!”

I walked over. On the screen, Colossal Redneck had a photograph. For once, it was a picture of people who actually had clothes on.

CR: “So, ya’ know how Rom and The Amazon always are takin’ pictures a’ people they sell cars ta’? Look what I found!”

Rom and The Amazon had instituted a policy about six months before where every person who bought a car from us had to have their picture taken with their new ride. They were supposedly going to use these pictures for the giant multimedia extravaganza website that our Incompetent Tech Guy had been “working on” for the last six months. On Colossal Redneck’s screen was a photograph of a plainly-dressed man with his very suburban-looking family in front of a black Jetta.

CR: “That’s that there lawyer that came yesterday, ain’t it?”

Me: “So… what the f*ck? The client he was representing was… himself?”

CR: “This is pretty f*ckin’ weird right here.”

I pulled up the customer’s file and copied the name into Google. The first thing that came up was his employee page at the company he worked for.

Me: “Look at this. He’s middle management at a defense contractor.”

Colossal Redneck started howling laughing.

CR: “You mean not only weren’t there a client, he ain’t even a lawyer?”

Me: “I guess? I mean, if he calls again, I guess I can drop that on him.”

Colossal Redneck nodded in agreement.

Me: “I have to say, this is pretty god-damned weird, even for our customers. Like, what the f*ck?”

CR: “Yeah. What the f*ck indeed.”

This is it, folks, the last part of the last story from my days at Dishonest Used Car Dealership. It’s been a hell of a ride, and I want to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my cold, black heart for coming along with me, laughing at my dumb jokes and commiserating about the dark times. When I started posting back in February, I thought it would just be a fun thing to write up a story or two while I was sitting on my tail waiting for a job interview, and never expected anything approaching the kind of response I have received. And here we are, at the beginning of October, 26 stories across 27 posts, more than 64,000 words later. It has been a profound honor to get to share these little snippets of my life with you all. But, rest assured, the DUCD saga may be at an end, but after much cajoling, I’ve decided to drop at least a story or two from the places I worked after. I can’t promise quite as much drama, but we did get up to some nonsense. And thank you all so very much for all the kind words as I have shared these stories with you. I appreciate it more than you know.

I do have one brief bit of business, if you will permit. After many extremely kind requests to put my stories from DUCD into a more permanent form, I am actually getting off my lazy backside and doing something about it. I have gone and edited these stories into something a little more “book-like,” and as soon as I am happy with the manuscript, I will be self-publishing them in paperback and e-Book formats. I’ll have more news about that very soon.

Anyway, I now present the conclusion of the Dishonest Used Car Dealership saga.

In the fray at Dishonest Used Car Dealership surrounding the departure of The Diplomat and the necessity of the owners filling in for our now-missing sales staff, the one critical thing we absolutely required to do business had not gotten paid: our insurance. I can get cars fixed without running water or electricity. God knows I can do it without garbage pickup, since we hadn’t seen a garbage truck in weeks. But insurance we had to have.

We also now had a major cash-flow situation as well. With Lady Applebee’s having cost the company a good $10,000 on her car switcharoo, my former romantic prospect’s medical bills to pay (not to mention replacement shoes to buy), and a once-show-quality Mercedes that we were going to have to buy out-of-pocket, we had a lot of money about to head out the door. We also had no sales staff other than Rom and The Amazon filling in and were short two technicians. Felonious Monk should have been out of police custody already, but he wasn’t. The police wouldn’t tell us much, but the rumor around the shop was that he had failed a drug test while in custody and we would not be seeing him for some time. As with all rumors, it was impossible to know whether it was true or not, especially considering Felonious Monk always seemed pretty skittish when drugs would be found in customers’ cars. At the same time, he was also impulsive and didn’t think very far ahead, so who knows? In any case, we were going to be very far into the red with no real way to make it up any time soon.

That Monday morning, Rom and The Amazon called an emergency all-hands meeting. We piled into the conference room, not really sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t going to be anything pleasant, that’s for sure. We all sat down and The Amazon broke the silence.

TA: “Good morning everyone. I think we all are well aware of the events that have transpired recently, and so I don’t think we need to rehash the unpleasantness of the last few weeks. But, as you are undoubtedly aware, whether by accident or malice or incompetence, the last few weeks have been extremely costly. However, what most of you are unaware of is that our insurance company has terminated our policy, which means the costs of these incidents will likely have to come out of our budget.”

There was a murmur among the technicians and Miami Vice.

TA: “We are currently in talks with our attorney as to whether something can be done about this situation, but in the meantime, we are going to have to tighten the belt considerably to survive.”

Lord Salisbury spoke up.

LS: “What, precisely, does that entail?”

TA: “I’m glad you asked. Colossal Redneck, Rom, and I have been discussing this situation over the weekend, and we all agree that sacrifices will have to be made in order to keep this ship afloat. Most of these sacrifices will be minimal. To save some electricity, we’re going to unplug the refrigerator in the shop and we’re going to ask that the technicians refrain from using the welders, the tube bender, or anything that runs off the phase converter. We’re also going to take a brief hiatus from restocking things like office supplies – we’ll just have to use what we’ve got until we run out. We’re also going to clear out our used car inventory and not purchase any more cars at auction for a while. So, most of the changes are going to be minimal and shouldn’t significantly affect the course of business.”

LS: “That all sounds very good, except… Except there’s a word in there you keep using that makes me nervous.”

TA: “And what’s that?”

LS: ““Most.” You keep saying most of the sacrifices will be minimal. It’s that “most” that’s bothering me.”

TA: “Yes, well, as I said, we are all going to have to make sacrifices if we want to stay afloat.”

Lord Salisbury was beginning to look irritated. Mr. Sarcastic spoke up in his place.

MS: “Are you going to continue farting around and avoiding whatever it is you’re trying to say, or are you going to get to the point?”

TA: “Fine. In order to ensure the company’s solvency, commissioned employees are going to have their commissions suspended until this crisis is over. You will still receive your base pay. Hourly employees – I guess that’s just Miami Vice – will receive minimum wage.”

The technicians leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads. I was completely taken aback – the entire pay cut plan had certainly not crossed my desk – and in my surprise I spoke up.

Me: “You’ve got to be f#cking kidding me. This is the plan you came up with? That is not a small pay cut you’re talking about here – it would be one thing to have some furlough days or for us not to work overtime, but that’s half my paycheck, and it’s more like 75% of the techs’ pay you’re taking away. Not one of us had a damn thing to do with everything that’s gone down in the last weeks, and it is ridiculous and entirely unfair to dock our pay to cover other peoples’ f#ck-ups.”

TA: “Well, you were driving the 240 when it burned that girl.”

Me: “Yeah, and when you can articulate how her getting hurt was my doing, let me know.”

TA: “36055512, I think you are failing to comprehend the magnitude of this situation.”

Me: “Okay, then. If the cash flow issue is that big, tell me, are you pursuing a business loan to hold us over? Or perhaps you could sell or mortgage or rent out one of the three houses you two own. Or perhaps Rom could sell that tacky gold Rolex on his wrist. Or maybe you could flip some of our inventory at cost just to get some cash in hand. There are a thousand ways to solve this problem, but what you’ve done is push the responsibility and the pain onto everyone but yourselves.”

TA: “Now that is completely unfair! All of us are having to make sacrifices.”

Me: “Really? So what kind of pay cut will the two of you be taking?”

TA: “I can assure you, Rom and I will be taking significant pay cuts as well.”

Me: “Yeah. I’m sure you will.”

Lord Salisbury chimed in once again.

LS: “Well, I’ve heard about enough of this, what about you, Mr. Sarcastic?”

MS: “Yeah, I’m with you. This is bullsh!t.”

Lord Salisbury reached into his pocket and fished out his keychain. He unthreaded the shop key from the ring and thunked it on the table. Mr. Sarcastic followed suit. Lord Salisbury turned to Colossal Redneck.

LS: “Post me my check.”

Colossal Redneck stood from the table.

CR: “Now, wait jes’ a minute, fellas…”

Lord Salisbury stood from the table and faced down Colossal Redneck.

LS: “Post me my check.”

Rom, seeing this, jumped from the table and blocked the door with his body.

Rom: “None of you are going anywhere.”

Lord Salisbury whipped around to face him.

LS: “Move. Now.”

Rom braced his hands against the door frame.

Rom: “No one is leaving without my approval.”

In all the time I had worked with Lord Salisbury, I had never once seen him angry, never once heard him raise his voice. He was the textbook definition of the charming English gentleman. All of the sudden the Lord Salisbury I knew vanished from the room, replaced by some sort of lesser demon. Absolute fury washed over his face and his body tensed. In a flash, he reached out with his hand and grabbed Rom by the neck and squeezed. Rom’s eyes betrayed his terror and he tried to scream, but Lord Salisbury’s hand crushed in around his neck. Rom released his grip on the door frame and Lord Salisbury tossed him aside into a heap on the floor.

The Amazon shot up from the table, but Lord Salisbury stopped her cold with a glare. His voice dropped into a deep, hissing snarl.

LS: “SIT. THE F#CK. DOWN!”

She immediately retreated to her chair and Lord Salisbury stared her down for a moment. He turned and disappeared out toward the shop, Mr. Sarcastic in tow.

The room was in stunned silence. Rom gradually crawled back onto his feet and we sat for a moment. I finally threw my hands up in disgust at the whole thing and went back to my office.

It was two hours later, and I was in my office polishing off a letter of resignation. I had already packed my things into a box, taken down the paintings off the wall, and deleted anything good off my computer. I heard a knock on the door and Miami Vice slipped into my office.

MV: “Look, uh… I don’t know how to say this…”

Me: “I think I know what you’ve got on your mind, but shoot.”

MV: “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and… it’s the pay thing… I can’t live on minimum wage.”

Me: “I understand. Do you have something else lined up?”

MV: “I just called a friend of mine, he works at a bar up at the top of the lake. I guess they’re looking for someone to help in the kitchen.”

I stood up and reached out a hand.

Me: “You’ve been a terrific employee. I’m sorry it came to this. Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you.”

He shook my hand.

MV: “It’s been wild, it really has.”

I walked with him out through the bay and he disappeared beyond the sandwich shop toward the bus stop.

A minute later, two flatbed tow trucks rolled into the parking lot and idled up next to the shop’s bay door. Mr. Sarcastic and Lord Salisbury slowly rolled their enormous tool chests out toward the trucks. The tow truck drivers grabbed their winch cables and pulled the tool chests onto the trucks. The drivers strapped down their loads and the trucks pulled out of the parking lot toward their respective destinations. I ran into the shop, grabbed three beers, and intercepted the technicians. We cracked our beers and shared a toast.

Me: “Gentlemen, it’s been an honor working with you. I just want you to know, if you ever need a reference, if you ever need someone to vouch for your skills, you have my number.”

We chugged our beers and threw the cans into the back of Colossal Redneck’s pickup, and the two of them got in their cars and drove out of the parking lot for the last time.

I went back inside and printed my letter of resignation. I folded it in thirds and walked over to Colossal Redneck’s office.

CR: “This here has been quite a day, hasn’t it?”

Me: “It has. This is for you.”

I handed him the letter. He read it over.

CR: “You too, huh?”

I nodded.

CR: “I would’a thought of everyone on the staff, you would’a been the loyal one.”

Me: “Well, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m never going to see a paycheck from here again, so…”

CR: “What if I went an’ got you yer paycheck right now, whatever’s outstanding, would that up an’ change yer mind any?”

Me: “I gotta be honest, you and I know that it’s just going to bounce. Plus, I ain’t gonna try and live off just my base pay from here on out.”

CR: “You and me, we kin sort out yer pay rate. As fer now, I’ll betcha there’s enough money in one’a the accounts ta cover what yer owed. Gimme a minute.”

Colossal Redneck disappeared down the street to the bank and came back a few minutes later with an envelope full of cash. He handed it to me.

CR: “That ought’a cover ya up to Friday. How’s that sound?”

I fanned out the cash on the table and counted it. It was all there, more or less.

Colossal Redneck handed me back my letter of resignation.

CR: “I don’t suppose I’ll be needin’ this, then.”

I flicked it back on his desk.

Me: “No, I’m afraid you still do.”

CR: “What? C’mon, man, ya’ can’t quit, ya’ got yer money!”

Me: “Look around you, man. We’ve got no technicians. We’ve got no sales people. It’s just you and me. Now, I don’t know what things look like from your vantage point, but this sure looks like a sinking ship from where I’m standing. You and I are clinging onto the top of the f#cking mast and you’re trying to tell me that because our feet aren’t wet yet, that there’s nothing to worry about. Well, I’m sorry, but that’s bullsh!t. There was a time when I worked here because I thought we were doing something special, that we were selling really cool cars that were going to help save the environment, that this was an up-and-coming business where I could build a career, but those days are so far behind me they’re on the other side of the horizon. If I can’t even rely on my paychecks coming in, then I’m not real sure what point there is to being here. How much more money is there to just up and hand out come payday? Enough for a month? Two weeks?”

CR: “Sometimes we all gotta make some sacrifices, though. I mean, y’all haven’t been the easiest employee, and it seems like ya ought’a show some loyalty, ya know?”

Me: “If you think you’ve got to do the “honorable thing” and ride this ship all the way to the bottom, you go and do that, but I’m not about to sacrifice even one second of my life on some made-up principle for two people who don’t have the slightest inkling of what the words “honor” or “loyalty” mean. Every f#cking day here has been a fight, you and I have never received the slightest bit of respect, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and have you try and tell me that I owe you or them or this f#cking company a god-damned thing.”

Colossal Redneck looked down at my letter of resignation. He paused, and then stood from his desk.

CR: “Alright.”

He held out his hand.

CR: “It’s been terrible havin’ y’all as an employee.”

I shook his hand.

Me: “You’ve been a horrible boss.”

He saluted me and I grabbed my box of things and walked out the big bay door for the last time.

Epilogue:

It was a month after I left DUCD, a drizzly cold Friday afternoon, and I was loading the last of my possessions into a big box truck. On a lark, I had applied at a job in a city about three hours away, and strangely enough, they had offered me a position. The pay wasn’t quite as good, but it was a chance for something new, somewhere new, where I could clear my head and just start over. I had given notice to my landlord that I was leaving, given away the things I didn’t need, said goodbye to the few friends I had left, and sold the Jeep. As a final “f#ck you” to the dealership, I had also dropped a dime to the county about the illegal dumping going on behind the shop. The pile had gotten bad enough that we had started calling it “The Trasherhorn,” and between that and the dozens of gallons of old coolant and used motor oil the technicians had dumped on the ground back there, the county had told me that they were very interested in conducting an investigation.

On the way out of town I made one last swing past the dealership just to see what had become of the place. I pulled off to the far side of the road and idled for a moment. The lot was very empty. Rom and The Amazon’s car was there, but no others I recognized, not even Colossal Redneck’s. They had little inventory on display and even fewer cars that appeared to belong to customers. The service bay was shut tight and the lights were off inside the service office. As I idled, Rom and The Amazon appeared from the sales office, shouting at each other. The Amazon got in Rom’s face and screamed something, then turned and marched back inside. Rom stood for a moment and then started kicking a Honda over and over again until there was a big dent in the back door. He stopped and stood there alone, shoulders drooped in the rain.

I put the box truck into gear and pulled away. I turned onto the highway, pointing the truck toward the edge of town. I switched on the radio and turned it to max, slid the transmission into overdrive, and put the pedal to the floor. I drove south, far beyond the horizon, away from it all.

Many months later I came back north with a girl I was dating to show her the city that had defined so much of my adulthood, a city that has so indelibly dyed the very fabric of who I am that all these many years later I still dream of warm summer nights, windows down, driving on the bridge across the lake; that the smell of food still transports me back to the little ramen bar just south of downtown, the one I never knew the name of because the sign was in Japanese, windows fogged from the warm soup and the cold rain. And to this day when I drive through the big city to the north I choke up and my voice catches, because when I came the city broke me and molded me and made me new, and when I left I left so much of me there. Most of me still stands there on the pale sands on the shore, feeling the wind just this side of cold, looking out across the water to the islands beyond and watching the boats come in for the night as the sky turns orange, then red, then blue, then black, standing there waiting for the rest of me to come home.

I turned off the highway in the big Dodge I now drove and pulled into the dealership’s parking lot. It was empty save for an abandoned Oldsmobile decaying silently in a corner. The windows to the offices were hastily boarded up and graffiti covered the bay doors. The sign for the dealership was dingy from the rain and moss was beginning to grow over the letters.

I drove around back and we hopped out of the truck. The empty lot behind the service bay had been mostly cleaned up. The girl looked around and turned to me.

”What is this place?”

”It was a car dealership. I used to work here.”

”It looks awful.”

I gave the place one last look as I climbed back into the truck.

”It was. It really was.”