The Gift That Keeps on Taking (Cigar Smoke 12-18-08)

Well, as most of you who aren’t Islamic terrorists know, we’re right in the middle of the holiday season, and Marge and I are sitting on our dueling couches trying to get into the Christmas spirit. She’s reading her Kindle and I’m on my laptop looking around E-bay for something I don’t need. Nothing says Christmas like electronics.

So I casually mention that some guy in Minnesota is selling a Sirius satellite-ready radio. Not looking up from her Kindle, Marge said, “Yeah. So?” And I said, “Well, I was just wondering if he was serious about selling his Sirius.” Marge puts her Kindle down and is about to say something just south of profound and I say, “You know, I’d kind of like to have a Sirius radio for my car.” She said, “You would?” I said, “I’m serious about getting a Sirius. Seriously.” (Humor doesn’t take a vacation just because it’s joyous right now.)

Marge asked me how much it was. I said it cost $278. She said, “Why don’t I get it for you for Christmas?” I told her that would be great, and she said go ahead and buy it on E-bay, and she would reimburse me later. So I clicked the Buy It Now button and paid for it on PayPal, and life was good.

The radio came in a few days, and it was in good shape. No problems. So I went down to Al and Ed’s over by Circuit City and I spoke to Al (I don’t like Ed) and he told me that I needed a special receiver to make the radio work. I said I thought the radio was satellite-ready. He said that was kind of like thinking the girl in the massage ad is the one who’s actually going to come over to your hotel room.

I said, “Al, you are one happening dude, man. Way more happening than Ed.” Then I told him to go ahead and put the receiver in. He told me he’d like to, but he couldn’t, because you could only get this specific receiver through the dealer. So I hopped in my Durango and went over to the Dodge dealer in Glendale. I went into the parts department and I had the radio and I asked him if they had a Sirius satellite receiver he could sell me. He said he did. I said I want it. He said he’ll have it for me in a week. I said I thought you said you had it? He said I do have it. Just not here. I said, “Are you serious?”

So a week goes by and I’m smiling at Frosty the Snowman and grabbing Santa’s Sack (which I found out later was a felony) and the Dodge guy calls me to come and pick up my Sirius receiver. I drive back to Glendale, pay the nice parts gentleman $239 and think to myself that Marge must really love me for this much money and I take the radio and the receiver over to Al and Ed’s again.

I have the radio and the receiver in my arms and I try to open the door. It is locked. Nobody is there. It’s a Tuesday around 11 a.m. So I look at the hours posted on the door and it says 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Monday through Saturday. I knock real loud. Nothing. Then I get a fantasy that the store employees are being held hostage by punks and that I will have to sneak around back and kill them and save the hostages and I’ll be featured in the Los Angeles Times — if it is still here.

Just as I’m about to start sneaking, Al pokes his head around the corner and says, “Can I help you?” I was pretty disappointed to not carry out my hostage freedom raid, but I told Al that I now had the receiver and could he install the radio? He looked at it. Cocked his head a couple of times, and said, “Where are the cables?” I, of course, said “What cables?” He said the cables that the dealer should have given you. I said, “Are you adjective Sirius?!”

So I drove back to the dealer’s and he apologized and said they forgot to include the installation kit. “How much is that?” I asked. He said, “$189.” I said “$189 plus the $239 I already spent on the receiver?” He said, “Yup.” I said “Is there anything else?” He said “No. No more parts.” I sighed. He went on, “Except the labor for the installation will run you about $400.” He was serious. Dead serious. I was just dead Sirius.

I said, with savage disbelief, “You mean it will cost me $278 for the radio + $239 for the receiver + $189 for the installation kit and then $400 to install it? That’s over eleven hundred bucks!” I paused to whimper. Then I said, “Hell, you could hire a homeless guy to sit in your front seat for a year and hum “Yankee Doodle” for that much.
My wife could buy a new husband for that.”

He laughed. I guess he wasn’t serious. Then I told him to refund me my $239 for the receiver and I would just have to get by without any satellite radio and just keep my damn ordinary, friends-in-low-places, cheap-ass, commercial-packed AM-FM.

I went home and thanked Marge for the gift that kept on taking. She said she was sorry about the radio, but I was right in assuming I wasn’t worth over 1,100 bucks for a gift, and by the way, could I help her assemble the new fake tree she got at Home Depot. Merry Christmas!

Jim Laris is for the former publisher and owner of the Weekly. Contact him at jimlaris@mac.com.