Night of the Living Dead by Ray Muth

NIght of the Living Dead
by
Ray Muth

I live within walking distance of the BP Minimart on the corner of Hancock Ave. and Route 66 in Washington Township. Each morning, usually before the sun rises, I make a short jaunt to get a newspaper there.

Its kind of a funny place. Half-awake people amble about in desperate search of their beloved coffee. You know how you can't get a thought out of your head? Every morning when I walk in there, I crack up because it reminds me of that old, black & white horror movie with the Pittsburgh connection, "Night of the Living Dead". Aside from the all the walking zombies bumping into each other around the coffee pots, there's a guy that looks a lot like one of the stars of the movie, Chilly Billy Cardille.

A few year ago I was in a hurry when I literally bumped into another Bill, Bill Bell who owns the service garage next door to the BP station. You don't just bump into Bill and keep moving. He is a character with a capital C. He always has a funny story about something that happened to him the night before, things that could only happen to Bill. "Hey I want to borrow a duck from that guy you know," he told me. "I have a great gag I want to pull on your boss," he continued. "Ummm, Ok Bill just don't let her know I had anything to do with it," I said shaking off sleep.

I began smiling about something else he was telling me that morning when he convinced me to bring my vehicle down for an oil change. I never took my vehicle to Bill's garage before. I didn't know if he was good, bad or indifferent. I don't know much about cars. They don't interest me. As long as it's a stick and gets my dogs from point A to point B, I'm happy. He had an opening that day and its just hard to turn a guy like Bill down so I figured what the heck. I decided to let Bill and his guys have a crack at it.

I walked into his shop which has some of the more unusual retro momentos you'd ever see. There's a pop machine, circa 1950-something. There's an autographed photograph of Phyllis Diller on the wall. There's a few pictures of Bill costumed as a clown (naturally). And then there's some pointed slogans mounted all around that let's you know exactly where Bill stands on a wide variety of issues.

When I went to pick up my vehicle, I looked over the bill and pretended like I understood what was going on. I saw that all these fluids had been added free to my vehicle. Nice touch. But there was some scribble I couldn't understand. "What was this," I asked Bill. "Oh your spare tire didn't have any air in it. John put some in. You're fine now," he said. I didn't think much of it.

Two weeks later in the wee hours of the morning I was driving in the middle of nowhere and guess what? Flat tire. I got out to take a look in pitch darkness and all I could think about was that movie "Night of the Living Dead". Thank goodness, my spare tire was not flat. My bill for that oil & filter change was worth ten times what I paid. Perhaps all mechanics look for that airless spare tires but Bill gained a loyal fan.

I went back to Bill and told him my story. I told him how much I appreciated taking that extra step. He just gazed at that guy who looked like Chilly Billy at the BP station. "I just didn't want you ending up a zombie in the middle of nowhere," he said. "Ummm, Ok Bill, I better let you get back to work now," I said as I scurried out.

Now as I walk like a mummy past Bill's service garage en route to the BP Minimart I wonder if maybe Bill was in that movie. Nah, couldn't be.

E-Mail Ray/a>