But, we have a teenager at home. That can be a worry. I got to thinking: how much does it cost to ship the car on a carrier? The internet is full of information like that. I requested five bids, surprised there are so many companies, from the comfort of my home. I got four replies, all over $700. Hey... Jeff at Motorcars Limited is our buddy. We bought two BMWs from him, and we wrecked one, so he has hope of selling us a replacement. Sure enough, Jeff hooked us up with his man in California. A phone call later, we were looking at $400.
Doug would be in Hayward... could we bring the car to Bay City Auction Yard? You can then take the yard's shuttle to Oakland Airport... where are you flying home from? That would be Oakland, sir.
Bay City Auction yard is a fantastic place for a woman whose dad owned a body shop when she was a child. All the sights, smells, and personalities of a wrecking yard were there. And acres of automobiles... most in new condition (that's where Jeff sourced the BMWs we bought), lease returns, dealer overstock. Some wrecks (what my dad would have been interested in). The yardbirds (employees who move vehicles around, jump batteries, check fluids) appeared to be from the South Pacific Islands, but any yardbird is a somewhat feral creature no matter the origin. Imagine: who could work in any weather crawling around and under greasy cars? They talk loud, laugh loud, have coarse language and teeth missing. Always a Marlborough burning between their lips.
One woman who looked to be about 45 asked me what I had in my tote bag. "Columbo Extra Sour San Francisco frenchbread." She was amazed I was toting six loaves home. I told her it's a rare delicacy for the transplated Californian. "Wow," She said, laughing loudly, "We just take advantage, I guess." I opened a package and gave her the heel of a sliced loaf. "Smell this," I said. For the uninitiated, there is nothing in the world like the sourdough breads from San Francisco bakeries, notably, Colombo and Boudin. Not a sniff for this yardbird-female but a full-bodied rush of air with the bread wrapped around her nose. "Good! Thank you! You didn't have to do that," she said.
"Ah, but how would you ever know?" I replied, "This is heaven on earth."
Doug told us we may have missed the last shuttle. We'd figured out the shuttles are for the Big Time Operators from distant dealerships who fly in, bid and buy, then fly out.
"Too bad!" said the yardbird in the shuttle booth. "You are out of luck!" Doug said something to her in a quiet voice, and somehow it was discovered that there was one more shuttle out.
Today is Saturday. We just got back from Jeff's lot with the del Sol. It is dusty, but the gas is still in it and so are the items we threw in the trunk that we didn't want to pack onto the plane.
We could have filled the car with Columbo Extra Sour.
