:: the death of cool people I know is banned from now on ::

Monday morning, I call to see how are the upgrades to my car going, and the fix of the AC.

I'll try to seem busy and exasperated so they hurry up a bit.

Only one ring and an answer... weird, it takes until the 7th ring of the 3rd call to get from under the car, wash hands and answer...

And a voice I know but didn't expect answers: the watchman.

-'Sir, we're closed today. The workshop will not open today nor tomorrow'

-'What do you mean? It's monday!! Where's Geovanny?

-'Everyone is at the cemetary, Mr. Geovanny passed away yesterday in a traffic accident, sir'

-'WTF'

It's weird to make a call, ask for someone and to get such reply.

There goes one of the few other Mercedes enthusiasts I know. A guy who actually lived from his favorite cars. And likely died on his favorite car.

Well, our favorite car of my possession is torn like a puzzle in his closed workshop. Hope his apprentices can handle tomorrow when they open.

He might have just been my mechanic. But sure he was a nice dude. People that I like don't die often. And it's the first tragical and seemingly premature death of someone I like. Before that, only my parents' grandparents and one grandfather, but in their cases seemed natural and peaceful.

Update: Just found the news about it. I didn't have any details. It was painful and slow. It's disturbing. I've shaken that hand. I've sat in the passenger seat of that car. I have got many ideas from that car to upgrade mine. Mutilation in front of people who loves you and bleeding to death for some hours; really not the way you want to go. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.