Why I Love Charlotte

I don't think it's Charlotte, per se, that I'm attached to. What I am attached to, however, is the fact that over the 10 years I've lived here, I have met so many people -- some of whom have become close friends, but most of whom are merely friendly acquaintances.

After much trial and error, I have finally found the best place to buy a last-minute gift (Paper Skyscraper), the best place to get a manicure (Aloha Nails), the best place to get a quality inexpensive haircut (Aveda Institute), and best hamburger (Sir Edmund Halley's).

I have also forged relationships with folks whose services have come in handy at a fraction of the cost and hassle of other folks. Photographers, graphic designers, writers, travel professionals, caterers, pastors...if you need something done, chances are I know just the person to do it. And I'm not shy about referring them to complete strangers.

Case in point is yesterday. I hopped in my car to run an errand when--"yugh yugh yugh....clacker clacker clacker" -- my car wouldn't start. I checked to see if I left my lights on, but they were off. I was only slightly puzzled. Fortunately, there was a young 20-something woman sitting in an SUV in the parking lot waiting for someone. So I asked her if she'd give me a jump (since I always ALWAYS carry jumper cables in my car). It worked like a charm. Started right up. I thanked her and went on my merry way, but not before driving around a little bit and then parking near my house and cutting the car off to make sure it was OK.

It was fine.

Fast-forward to an hour-long trip to Costco, where I stock up on cheese, beef, chicken, fish and paper towels. When I tried to leave, "yugh yugh yugh....clacker clacker clacker" -- my car wouldn't start again. Saddled with trunk full of chicken, ground beef, and tilapia on a 94-degree day, priority one was getting my groceries home. So I called Scott to come over and give me a jump. About 10 minutes later, I tried and the car hesitantly started up. So I called off Scott and immediately rang my trusty, wonderful mechanic Steve.

I love Steve.

Steve's garage is in a seedy, dangerous part of town and his lot is littered with old Datsuns and Toyotas. I don't quite understand how he's able to make a living if what he charges me is any indication. He'll talk me out of any repair that's going to cost more than, say, $200, because, unless the repair means the difference between the car driving or turning into scrap, it just isn't worth investing that much into a car that's 10 years old and has 170K miles on it.

I love Steve.

So I called him on my way home to drop off the groceries. He told me, "Well, if you're looking to save some money, I'll sell the battery that's in my Camry for $20 and I'll put it in for you." I said, "SOLD. I'll be right over."

It took Steve all of three minutes to put in my battery. Whilst he was working, he informed me that I could probably get at least $1,000 more for my car today than a year ago because cars with great gas mileage -- even old ones -- are in huge demand. If you're stuck with an SUV, you're totally f**ked.

I replied, "Well, that makes sense. Times are tight for everybody, I suppose. I'm not working right now so I'm feeling pretty squeezed."

After installing my battery and making sure everything was working properly, I grabbed my checkbook to pay him. He said, "Tell ya what. When you get a job, pay me that $20 next time you're here."

See what I mean?! There is absolutely no way in hell I could move to, say, Houston, and receive that kind of grace coming out of the gates. That takes years of building a rapport, and, more importantly, sending referrals.

I say all this to express my hesitancy to relocate. I have been unemployed for almost three months and the job market here in Charlotte isn't looking so good. I might be better off, professionally, moving to Raleigh or Atlanta.

But I can't get a free car battery there....