I'm reviewing applicants for the position of My Garage. My little car is rather important to me, and Dave has too much to do to keep my oil changed and whatnot, so I'm actively seeking a good place. My bodywork people recommended the place across from them. And I went today and had my oil changed at a different place -- it's on the way home from work. They are quite nice. I explained what I was looking for, and why. I asked them if they are honest. "No," they said. "We are crooks." The owner's wife works there in the office part, and they have a malamute that wanders. And children, or perhaps child. Tomorrow I'm going to my bodywork place so they can put in a headlight motor. My car will be happy. The stupid thing's been out for a year. Now that I'm back to just doing things myself instead of feebly relying on poor Dave, I will have to have to cultivate these relationships. I have always had a garage I liked a lot -- for one period of time I took my car to the car-mending end of an Avanti dealership. They fixed my car long after they stopped being open to the public (just did their own work) -- which I found out by accident I think when they failed to recognise me on the phone and refused to fix my car. Then when they found out they were talking to me they explained. How faithful they were!
Samantha, who lived with me out of desperation for three months at the beginning of the year, has been paying me back what I loaned her in the most superb fashion. I usually don't loan anything anyway, but if I have to loan a small amount I say, "Keep it," as I don't want repayment or nonrepayment to occupy my brainspace. This was more than I could afford to lose, however, so I'm glad she's being such a good repayer.