Saturday, August 05, 2000

A weekend in the county

I have six hours to kill without benefit of modern transportation. The plan was that I would drop off my car at Circuit City to have the CD player and security system installed, then spend my time wandering around a couple of nearby shops and the mall before going back to claim it.

I should have consulted the weather forecast.

This is the county, after all, and things that are nearby with wheels are somewhat more distant on foot. The walk to Pier One Imports took me 15 moist and muggy minutes, followed by another lazy half hour perusing all the miraculous things scientists have discovered to do with bamboo. Then it was another 10 minute ramble to the next nearest store that wasn't a tanning salon or plus-size women's clothier.

And that's where I am right now, ensconced in a bookstore cafe, my tall latte half finished and a deluge coming down outside. In my natural habitat, the city, the Central West End, this would be a pleasant enough way to pass an hour, even six. The coffee bar adjacent to Left Bank Books is cozy and friendly, and its proximity to the area's last remaining independent bookstore means there's a better than even chance the cutie you're cruising at the table by the window is literate and knows who Nietzsche is.

But this is, as I have noted, the county; the cafe is Starbucks and the bookstore is a gigantic cookie-cutter Barnes & Noble. The Muzak synth-pop crap, the crowd is primarily senior adults and the only cutie in evidence is a frat-like barista who has spent the past 45 minutes making indelicate passes at the perky blond counter clerk. Aside from my iBook, the only diversion I have brought with me is a copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

I fleetingly consider making a run for it, packing up the laptop, optimistically opening my umbrella and dashing across six lanes of traffic in the rain to the mall where the most appealing of the eight movies on offer at the multiplex is Coyote Ugly. It then occurs to me that perhaps the only thing worse than being trapped in the epitome of soulless, commercial sprawl is being trapped in the epitome of soulless, commercial sprawl wearing very wet pants.

No. Barring a break in the barrage of rainfall, I will be the guest of Barnes & Noble for the next four hours.

I did not expect the work on my car to take so long, but I was detained at home this morning and instead of arriving at the stereo shop at 10 a.m., I made it at 10:15, just in time for four other audiophiles to slip ahead of me in the installation queue. (Circuit City does not accept reservations for car audio installations, a fact that I have added to my list of the many ways Circuit City resembles a fine French restaurant.) This, coupled with the fact that two minor parts needed to complete the job, despite having been indicated as in-stock by the store's space-age inventory control system last night, are not in stock, has compounded the delay.

Three years ago when I accompanied my friend Rick to the jeweler to pick out an engagement ring for his intended, the salesman explained that there was a formula for determining how much to spend on such a momentous purchase. It was something like the equivalent of six months salary (or was it four months?) or your fiance's weight, added to her birthdate, divided by pi and multiplied by $1,000. Anyway, some simple rule of thumb like that.

I wonder if there's a similar tip for figuring out how much is appropriate to spend on a car stereo. After all, I drove my last car for four years, which qualifies as my longest relationship of any sort, and I'd elected for a top of the line audio system in that case. So selecting a CD player is almost like getting engaged, right?

(The Muzak is sapping my ability to form cogent metaphors. You may wish to skip to the end of this passage, by which point I will no doubt be comparing the Israeli peace negotiations to photosynthesis.)

Anyway, without any convenient guidance in the matter -- except for having consulted Consumer Reports and a few Internet resources several months before -- I walked out having dropped around 1/5 the price of my car into the audio and alarm. I don't think I overspent; they're both middling systems, the top of the line having moved up considerably since I was last in the market.

If this afternoon I return to Circuit City only to have my car tell me that, on consideration of my proposal, it would like to see other drivers, I will be surprised and disappointed, but forgiving. And I will assuage my wounded heart with dinner at Applebee's and a late show of Coyote Ugly. When in the county, you do as the countians do.