Puntabulous

Let me begin this story by telling you about my car. It’s a 1993 Nissan Maxima. While it’s an awesome car, it really really sucks. The trunk likes to pop open randomly. The back window is wedged shut by a piece of cardboard. The automatic locks haven’t worked since I got it. And only half of the stereo speakers work.

So anyway, I was driving home from the train station one night after work, and I get pulled over. Now even though I hadn’t had a drink all night, I’m worried about having to take a sobriety test, because I can’t walk a straight line to save my life. Seriously, if I’m walking down the street with someone, I am constantly bumping into them. So the officer comes up to my window and asks me if I know why I got pulled over. I managed not to say “I hope it’s not to take a sobriety test!” which could have been very suspicious, but for all the wrong reasons. Instead I respond that “I don’t know”. The kind officer informs me that one of my headlights is out and kindly writes me a ticket. My first ticket! Gad! But he tells me if I get it fixed the next day, and bring proof to the local police precinct that the ticket will be taken away.

So the next day, my dad replaces the headlight, but it still doesn’t work! Apparently there was something wrong with the electricity in my car. But the thought of paying the $30 ticket was absolutely appalling! So I hatch a plan to take the receipt and box for the new headlight and pretend that it’s all fixed and have the ticket taken away. Genius!
I drive to the local police precinct, the handsome (and married, sigh) police officer knows exactly what I’m talking about and begins filling out the paperwork to have the ticket taken away. Then he hits me:

Naturally I was already committed to my story, so I had to stick with it! I go out to my car and pull it around to the front of the precinct. The officer comes out as I prepare for my Academy Award winning performance (or at the very least Golden Globe).

“Just turn on the headlights,” he said.

Casually I turn on the headlights, to which he replied, “Are they on yet?”

Sell it, Craig, sell it! I yelled to myself.

“That’s crazy,” I said aloud. “They were working five minutes ago!”

He seemed to buy my story, but still wouldn’t take my ticket away. He said that if I can get it to work for even a second, that he would take my ticket away. Unable to do so with the power of my subconscious, I left the precinct with my tail between my legs.

When I pull up in my driveway, I’m shocked to see TWO WORKING HEADLIGHTS reflected in the garage door. I had no idea how to react. Should I be annoyed? Should I be happy? Either way, I quickly drive back to the precinct and had the handsome (and married, sigh) police officer take my first ticket away.

I then had to permanently solve the problem.

Click the link to see how I did it!

I got a new car! Woo hoo! It’s pretty wonderful. I broke it in Sunday by driving the family to Pennsylvania. It’s a shame that’s the most action it will see since it will spend most of its life in a train station parking lot. But who cares!? It’s so pretty!