Junkyard, Episode II

There was too much seatbelt missing to just stitch together, so I had to find a length. Amazing how a seemingly simple task can become so complicated. I really didn’t want to go to another junkyard, but new seatbelt material was simply not available. And it was hard to come by at a junkyard, too. Nobody wanted to sell me any. I finally called Lafayette Auto Parts, on Lafayette St., which is in a sort of no-man’s land between Michigan Ave. and Dickman Road. Clark Equipment used to be there, but now it’s just a few junkyards, a couple of dilapidated houses, weed-choked parking lots, and not much else. They told me I could take one from a car that was going to the car crusher.

The office had an actual receptionist. She was helpful and friendly; she pointed me to a guy who could take me to a car. The guy was grubbier than any I had encountered in other junkyards, had a long, forlorn face, like a foal, a cranium about half the normal size, greasy blond hair, but was extremely polite. He picked out a random car near the front of the junkyard with an axle assembly on the hood, started it, and drove me back to where the extreme junkers were. We got to a car that we could reach, and he started to cut the seatbelt with a large steak knife. I was afraid he was going to hurt himself; I had my Super Scissors with me, and I asked if he’d let me cut the seatbelt with those. He seemed skeptical, but I snipped through the belt like a Christmas ribbon. He was impressed. He drove me back to the main building, and the receptionist didn’t even charge me.