A reader patronizing a tire store in the Valley shares with us a remarkable sighting of 1970s hearththrob Erik Estrada, who pulled up inconspicuously in a vintage, cream-colored Rolls wearing head-to-toe white. After rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't having a Ponch-Angel hallucination, he then listened in as Estrada ineptly attempted to haggle over a new set of radials for his son. Rolls or no Rolls, he was not going to be taken for a ride on these tires.
Fortunately, I had to return to the Studio City Firestone for the 2nd day in a row yesterday (9/18). I needed one more tire to complete my new set of 4. Apparently, counting is not a job prerequisite. Anyhow, as I was waiting for them to finish up, a vintage (maybe just old) cream Rolls pulls up and out pops Erik Estrada, dressed in tennis whites. He was in pretty good shape for his age but certainly not fitting into his CHP jumpsuit. Oddly, he had very large calves - implants, Drama? Here's the surreal exchange that followed, pretty much verbatim:
EE: Yeah, hi. I need to get some tires for my son's pickup and I don't want to spend a lot of money. He's meeting me here.
Firestone Lady: What kind of truck is it?
EE: It's one of those small ones.
FL: Do you know what year?
EE: Wow . . . maybe 90-something.
FL: Maybe we should wait until he gets here.
EE: What's it gonna run me?
FL: It depends. They start at maybe $75 and run up to a few hundred.
EE: These look about right. How much are these?
FL: Those are $90. Do you know what type of truck it is?
EE: Why are they $90?
FL: Is it a Toyota? Nissan? Mazda?
EE: I think these will fit.
FL: Let's see when he gets here.
Then he started to speak Spanish, which was odd, since the legend is that he spoke none before he got into the Mexican soap operas. Presumably, he was saying, "I'm Erik Estrada." When she responded in Spanish, things got out of control quickly and soon they were back to English. Didn't stick around to see how cheap Erik was getting off with his son's safety.