Greetings and salutations, all you lucky NSX owners. Jake here, a private investigator and part time comic book writer for Pulp Fiction Investigations. I’m based out of “Sack of tomatoes”, Sacramento to you out of towners. I’m in between cases right now and I got some time on my hands, so I thought I’d let you what you already know; you got something good goin’ here. Really good. This is just an outsider’s perspective, but I’m gonna tell you a little story about how I know.
I was sitting in the waiting room at Niello Acura getting an oil change on my 1987 Integra, painted California avocado green. People gag on the color, which is going on 200,000 miles. “That’s nothing”, I tell them, “the motor’s got over 300,000. But Niello does all my work, so what do you expect?” I refuse to let them wash it though. It was a hot and still day in River City. That’s gumshoe talk for anybody’s hometown. Mine happens to be Sacramento, CA but I told you that already. Are you payin’ attention? I’m waiting for the sun to go down and the Delta breeze to come up. Neither was happening fast enough. <sweat> The pit stain was spreading on my cream colored shirt that was originally white.
I cased the room, as I always do. Ya see, being in the business I’m in, I’m honin’ my skills alla time, ya know, ya gotta stay sharp in this business or you’re gonna get run over. No one in the waiting room but some high fashion dude with neatly pressed dockers and a snappy looking polo shirt. I checked him out, as I always do……….nothing gets by me. I squinted at the embroidery on his expensive black polo shirt. “NSXPO 1999”. Always making small talk, I pick up whatever I can (I watch a lot of old Colombo shows, that guy was good). Sounding casual, I ask “1999 was a long time ago, Slim, what’s so special about '99 and what the hell is a no sexpo?” I was dying to fire up that Lucky Strike stuck behind my ear but this is California and they’re trying to drive us smokers crazy with their clean air laws.
He glanced up from his magazine 'NSX Driver' (nothing gets by me). “Well, my friend, (I hate it when a stranger calls me friend) NSXPO is a special event based on a special car and 99 was my favorite. And now, were’ planning for the annual gathering of NSX owners and enthusiasts right here in sunny California. NSX? My mind was racing , an NSX ……….. I saw one of those once…………………where the heck was that???……..oh yeah, that Pulp Fiction movie, how could I forget?………yeah, that guy was cool, taking charge, just like me on the case.” The dude is not waiting for me to catch up and rambles on. “Each of the previous NSXPO’s, starting with the first one in Denver in 1997 have been an unqualified success, but this year the planning committee and I will deliver the mother of all NSXPOs, the benchmark for future events.” Pretty big talk, I’m thinking, but I didn’t back off an inch. I squinted slightly and hit him right between the eyes with this penetrating question: “And just how you gonna do that, my friend?” When in Rome……….
Hrant, as he’s affectionately called at Niello Acura, ever the suave gentleman, leaned back, adjusted his ascot, savored the aroma from his glass of Charles Shaw Merlot, (nothing gets by me) and mused: “Well, where do I start?” I wondered where he got the wine; Two Buck Chuck, we call it, the best kept secret east of Reno. That one got by me. Mighty peculiar. Niello is high class and all, but Starbucks and Krispy Kremes was all I could ever find.
Hold that thought, it’s time for me to head down to the Blue Note………..late nite jazz. I’ll get back to you more about this joker Hrant and the big No Sexpo gig coming up.
I was sitting in the waiting room at Niello Acura getting an oil change on my 1987 Integra, painted California avocado green. People gag on the color, which is going on 200,000 miles. “That’s nothing”, I tell them, “the motor’s got over 300,000. But Niello does all my work, so what do you expect?” I refuse to let them wash it though. It was a hot and still day in River City. That’s gumshoe talk for anybody’s hometown. Mine happens to be Sacramento, CA but I told you that already. Are you payin’ attention? I’m waiting for the sun to go down and the Delta breeze to come up. Neither was happening fast enough. <sweat> The pit stain was spreading on my cream colored shirt that was originally white.
I cased the room, as I always do. Ya see, being in the business I’m in, I’m honin’ my skills alla time, ya know, ya gotta stay sharp in this business or you’re gonna get run over. No one in the waiting room but some high fashion dude with neatly pressed dockers and a snappy looking polo shirt. I checked him out, as I always do……….nothing gets by me. I squinted at the embroidery on his expensive black polo shirt. “NSXPO 1999”. Always making small talk, I pick up whatever I can (I watch a lot of old Colombo shows, that guy was good). Sounding casual, I ask “1999 was a long time ago, Slim, what’s so special about '99 and what the hell is a no sexpo?” I was dying to fire up that Lucky Strike stuck behind my ear but this is California and they’re trying to drive us smokers crazy with their clean air laws.
He glanced up from his magazine 'NSX Driver' (nothing gets by me). “Well, my friend, (I hate it when a stranger calls me friend) NSXPO is a special event based on a special car and 99 was my favorite. And now, were’ planning for the annual gathering of NSX owners and enthusiasts right here in sunny California. NSX? My mind was racing , an NSX ……….. I saw one of those once…………………where the heck was that???……..oh yeah, that Pulp Fiction movie, how could I forget?………yeah, that guy was cool, taking charge, just like me on the case.” The dude is not waiting for me to catch up and rambles on. “Each of the previous NSXPO’s, starting with the first one in Denver in 1997 have been an unqualified success, but this year the planning committee and I will deliver the mother of all NSXPOs, the benchmark for future events.” Pretty big talk, I’m thinking, but I didn’t back off an inch. I squinted slightly and hit him right between the eyes with this penetrating question: “And just how you gonna do that, my friend?” When in Rome……….
Hrant, as he’s affectionately called at Niello Acura, ever the suave gentleman, leaned back, adjusted his ascot, savored the aroma from his glass of Charles Shaw Merlot, (nothing gets by me) and mused: “Well, where do I start?” I wondered where he got the wine; Two Buck Chuck, we call it, the best kept secret east of Reno. That one got by me. Mighty peculiar. Niello is high class and all, but Starbucks and Krispy Kremes was all I could ever find.
Hold that thought, it’s time for me to head down to the Blue Note………..late nite jazz. I’ll get back to you more about this joker Hrant and the big No Sexpo gig coming up.
