It was all going so well today, until I looked at a rider's crotch.

Oxycodone

It has been a good few weeks since I last took Old Bluey for an Uberspin. Keen followers will be relieved to know that my knee mass was benign. I have since had it removed from my patella by an excellent doctor in Stanford Hospital. He really knew his onions. Surgery at Stanford is expensive. Have a guess at how much it cost to have a 1-inch square mass removed from my patella. The answer is below¹. Your guess will be too low.

They put me under general anaesthetic. After inserting an IV, administering a relaxant, and 'freezing' the two big nerves in my leg, a handsome doctor apologetically asked me to sign a consent form. Whether this is how they usually address such important legal issues is unknown, but I must say that the admin at Stanford leaves much to be desired...

I won't terrify you with the details of my physical post-op trauma. But I will say that I was blessed by a magnificent blessing. It was the blessing of oxycodone. This word is likely familiar to the Americans among you. At the last company I worked for, a man was fired for addiction to this very agreeable drug. My supervisor could not believe I had not heard of it. This is a fine example of the US's deep embrace of prescription drugs. There are many other examples, not least the TV commercials which seem to take up at least half of the sponsored message time between scheduled programming. These adverts offer only very slight relief from all manner of cryptic disease, at the risk of myriad side effects ranging from genital discharge to suicide. This is very much another story.

One Oxycodone

Oxycodone is a joy. Like heroin, it is an opiate. I had received a small window into the life a heroin addict. Not having an addictive personality (self-medication is no longer necessary due to recently becoming conscious of, and addressing, my admittedly only minor child abuse), I enjoyed the "oxy" both for pain relief and, later, recreation. And then I stopped. But they had given me a STACK! Why I was given so much is unclear, suffice to say that my surplus pills have a street value of c.$300.

Before my surgery, there was another compelling reason not to Uber: the Bay Area has been subject to extreme precipitation of late. My wife urged me not to go out in it. Her fears may well have been valid. California is not used to rain. That means the roads have inadequate drainage and are ripe for aquaplaning (US: hydroplaning). A Stanford nurse told me that parts of the road were completely absent from one day to the next on her commute. Also Californians often panic in this weather and crash, I imagine screaming, at the very thought of a water drop. This relentless rain justified new wiper blades.

Windscreen Wiper Blades

My old wiper blades were ok but they squeaked a little on the downstroke. That's no good. It was time for an upgrade. I nipped into AutoZone. At least I meant to nip in. If I told you how many wiper blades there are to choose from, you might not believe me. I spent half an hour leafing through the laminated guidebook, Googling reviews, and generally pondering what would be the best blade at a reasonable price point. Some were exorbitant! Finally, finally, I found my blades: the Bosch Icon™.

A revolution in blade technology?

One of the reasons it took me so long to choose is that the Bosch Icon™ is an entirely different type of blade, altogether. Instead of a multi-articulated assembly (a standard blade, described here as "often overlooked, and mostly misunderstood"), which has been shown to distribute pressure unevenly—as I'm sure you can imagine—a beam blade is shaped like an archery bow. The clip is the only joint. The blades sweep gracefully away from the shaft. This has multiple benefits. Not mentioned in that link is their timeless elegance. Aside from some mild centrifugal throwout as they break into the curvature, they are beautiful, quiet and sexual. You need these on your car.

After seeing the Icon™, my brother-in-law immediately purchased some for himself. They inspire much envy. Treat yourself. Treat your significant other. Treat your mother if she deserves it.

Yesterday I gave Bluey a wash and saw a tiny rust patch where the old blades had extended past the windscreen—and its moorings—onto the front-wing metalwork. I was actually worried at first about the beam blades extending a little past the actual glassware, but I see now that this is standard. To maximise coverage you must buy the lengths specified for your vehicle. If anyone knows the best way to address the rust patch, I'm all ears.

Crotch

But what of crotches, I hear you lament. Well, today I parked next to a bush on the Stanford campus. We have come full circle. I was waiting for a rider outside her apartment block and there was no good place to loiter. She was five minutes late. Others might have cancelled on her. But I usually empathise.

A bush

Anyway, I thought I was too close to the bush for her to open the door. As she entered I tried to glance behind her—at the bush—but ended up staring directly at her Lycra®-clad genitals. This is a poor start for any trip. I began my usual administrative patter. But I had to mention what just happened.

"Sorry, I thought I was too close to the..."

Oh god. The bush. My voice trailed off.

"Sorry I took so long," the rider replied.

"No," I stammered, "I... I thought you might not be able to get in because of the... hedge."

Had she seen me look at her groin? I was not sure any more. I confirmed her destination and tried to put the whole thing behind me. I tried extra hard not to seem like a rapist. Maybe I smiled too much though. Life is a tightrope.

What did I learn today? Absolutely nothing.

Bye.

Appendix

Is this the right medium for this sort of thing? I used to write on Facebook where I knew a small, dedicated following would enjoy it. My sister egged me on to write about the wiper blades. It's just so hard to tell if this kind of silliness has any place in today's alt-right/regressive left landscape. Thoughts, views, opinions? A summary if you please.

¹$134,000. Thank goodness I have insurance.