I remember being handcuffed to that mechanic in a NASCAR pit during a big race. I took the job of
assistant mechanic in a team of mechanics working for a popular driver. His name was Zip or Slate
or Zip Slate or Zink Zate Slate or something. I went to his funeral and I put the handcuffs into
his casket as a gesture of respect.
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Next, I bought a Volkswagen, which was stolen the first week I had it by a local White Supremacist
group. They threatened to kill my dog Churchill if I told the police stole it.
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I decided that spending money on owning an auto was a waste, so I bought a bicycle. Unfortunately I
had to sell it and buy a car because I got a job that was 60 miles from where I lived and the
commute by bike was too long.
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My father helped me buy a Honda and because at that time I lived in a neighborhood that was called
Little Tokyo, there was no danger of the car being vandalized. The Honda was where I first made
love to Mieko, the girl who lived in the apartment next door. She was studying to be a dentist.
Every time I asked her to marry me she wet herself while laughing.
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That Toyota was totaled in a wreck on the Henry Hudson Parkway. I wasn't hurt because I wasn't in
the car when the crash took place. I loaned the car to Pixy Standforth, who needed to drive upstate
for an appointment with a urologist. Pixy survived the crash and once again I was sans a vehicle.
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Frank Cotolo can be found hosting the talk and interview programme Cotolo Chronicles. You
can send him an e-mail at this address: frank@148.ca.
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