November 22, 2016

A guy from Enterprise picked me up at nine this morning. The young agent at the Enterprise counter said he liked my shoes. Sigh. They are eight-or-more-year-old Cole Haan “Country” cordovan-colored driving moccasins which are no longer in production. I showed him the holes in the toes, and he liked them more. (These are my people here: they appreciate simple, classic, unbranded, well-constructed apparel and accessory items. My uniform works here!) Last year, I had to throw out my black “Country” shoes, and I hate the Cole Haan “Grant” substitutes I purchased. I have resisted replacing this pair because I can't find the color.

​I was en route to downtown Charleston by nine-thirty. En route, that is, in yet another dirty rental car without washer fluid. The front and rear windows were filmy, and there were crumbs in the gear shift box. The gas tank was five-sixteenths full –another odd hallmark of the off-airport, predominantly insurance-based Enterprise rentals. I guess for $42.99/day I shouldn't expect a clean vehicle with fluids and a full tank.
 
I scored “rock star” parking on State Street between Chambers and Broad. The meter was jammed, and a passerby assured me that I wouldn't get a ticket. I fiddled with the meter for a few minutes because it would have been more satisfying to me to un-jam it than to get free parking, but I didn't have my Swiss army knife with me and I'm no McGiver. I walked the city for an hour-and-a-half rediscovering sites I saw and restaurants in which I ate when I was here in August and October of 2008. I was struck by the number of places undergoing gut renovations and tortured myself by trying to pick a house to buy (other than the Calhoun Mansion) if money were no object. If or when money becomes no object, I'll really torture a realtor to help figure that out.

I went into the Ben Silver store having only ever seen the catalogue. It is a nonpareil men's haberdashery. I picked out my new François Pinton eyeglass frames (which I might buy when need a new prescription) and a pair of RM Williams boots (which I will buy when I get a job). If I had purchased both of them today they would have set me back a grand. I thought that imprudent, so I went to lunch (which was somewhat less than a grand).

I had made an early reservation for lunch because I had a two o'clock appointment with a dentist on the RV park's side of the Ashley River. I ate at the bar, and I was finished by twelve-thirty. Since I had the time, I went in search of my parents' house from 1963. I have pretty good visual memory, so I remembered the neighborhood and the look of the place, but I didn't know the street address. I was running out of time, so I called home and my mother could only remember the name of the street on which we lived in Key West. My father called me back a few minutes later (which was too late), and gave me the address. I'll find it tomorrow.

I went to Goodwill en route to the dentist to donate the three pairs of jeans. I still arrived earlier than I needed at the dentist's office, so I read People magazine articles about “famous” strangers while I waited.

The dental hygienist said my teeth were the easiest she'd had to clean that day. Perhaps I should have left the arugula and pecans in them from lunch just to make her work for her money. I reluctantly subjected myself to a round of annual bite-wing x-rays which I find more unpleasant than having a filling replaced. Having my teeth cleaned is like a massage for my mouth. The dentist gave me the most thorough consultation I have ever had, and I told him so. He knew I was just passing through town, so he wasn’t be thorough just to secure my future business.

The hygienist said the nail salon around the corner was "OK," so I went there for a manicure, pedicure and eyebrow wax. The pedi I had in Polson, MT, is still the worst I've ever had, followed by the pedi I had at my mother's salon, followed by this one. The salons I frequented in Huntington Beach, CA, where I started partaking in these girly maintenance programs in the early Oughts, were inexpensive and thorough. They set the bar, but, my salon in Rhode Island remains the best I've experienced.

When I took off my shoes for my pedicure I realized two things: one, my toes had sock jam; and, two my socks were filthy because my shoes have holes. I did yet another exhaustive internet search for the “Country” mocs to no avail, so I bought a pair of Cole Haan “Trillby” driving moccasins (which are also discontinued). They are "brown." They'll be here tomorrow.

It was 36 degrees last night, so I let the dogs sleep taco-style with me again. Tonight will be the same, then it will get warmer. Tomorrow, I have to move to a site without a sewer hook-up , so I'll have to dump and flush the tank in the morning before I move. Then, I'll go back to Charleston, rent a bike, have lunch, and return to BOB.