The Rendezvous

It had all the makings of a bad spy tv show.

Furtive calls. Evening rides on the train to the middle of nowhere. The flashing of headlights for recognition.

All for the goods.

The swap was made, the cash for the goods. Inspected, looked checked out.

I looked around for the undercover cops to screech up and make the bust, but the only people looking at me were the Sikh cab drivers idly checking what was up as they waited for a fare, any fare to take from the Fremont BART station.

All to get the parts I needed to get the laptop working.

Its working. Eh.

Not perfect, but it'll do for now.

Craigslist, when used properly...