The final chapter of our story…
I stopped by the only bank in town, but they were unable to withdraw more than $300 from my account. It was not enough.
I explained my situation to the manager at the shop. I offered to leave a credit card as collateral and mail a check when I got home.
“Naw, what you’re gonna do is take Diaz here with you to the bank in Visalia,” said the manager. So we drove to Visalia.
Diaz served as my tour guide as we drove through the orchards. “Plums. Blood oranges. Walnuts. Almonds.”
“See that hill? My sister and brother-in-law live up there. Pretty soon, he’s gonna make me come through the servant’s entrance in the back.
“Got good and drunk with Humphrey last night. Yeah, he was celebrating after moving your car.” Having just paid the bill, I could imagine.
Diaz continued to discuss his family situation. “Yeah, pretty soon, my brother-in-law is gonna stop inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner.”
Traffic was bad. “Dumbasses didn’t plan for this many cars,” explained Diaz. We got to the bank just before closing, and I got my cash.
The tour continued on the drive home. “Some rich bitch owns all these fuckin’ oranges. Lotta millionaires around here, Sunkist growers.”
Hopeful that rest awaited not far ahead, I dropped Diaz off with the money. All that remained was the four hour drive home.
Mercifully, the trip back to SF was uneventful. Until, while unloading my skis, I locked myself out of my apartment building.