Wednesday, May 03, 2006

More proof that I am, in fact, a stupid girl

I got pulled over this morning. Quite a feat, considering I was sitting in rush-hour traffic moving at about 1/4 inch per hour. What traffic rule can possibly be violated while sitting perfectly still? The one that involves affixing a tiny little sticker to one's license plate, something I'd completely forgotten to do... since February. (Honestly, I don't recall getting a renewal notice. Swear to gawd.) I showed a little boobie, and got off with a warning and explicit instructions to "rectify the situation immediately."

Sure, no problem. [boobie] I'll take care of it today, officer. [boobie] Thank you, sir. [boobie] You're [boobie] very [boobie] kind. [boobie] [boobie] [boobie]

Of course, upon further investigation, I discovered that the car is in need of an emissions test this year. Fan-freakin'-tastic! I don't know what it is, but I HATE that place. Not because of the long lines; not because of the fumes; not because of the grease smear that always somehow ends up on my pant leg; but because I'm afraid I'm going to do something stupid.

Years ago, back in high school when I was still driving my very first car (a bright turquoise 1972 Mercury Comet), I went over to my then boyfriend's place to have him change the oil or something. He wanted me to drive up on those little rampy things you put under each front tire, and I was convinced I would end up driving up the ramps and right off the other side... which, as it turns out, is exactly what I did. Ever since, any sort of drive-to-a-specific-point-and-stop task has freaked me out. Seriously. I avoid automatic carwashes like the plague.

Despite all my worst fears, I managed to make it through the emissions test unscathed. (Except for that part about my gas cap failing the pressure test. But that doesn't really count, because the guy doctored the paperwork for me [boobie].) So, feeling pretty proud of myself for not causing any sort of scene that would require me to never show my face at the south seattle site again, I cranked the ignition to start up the car and head back to work. Which is funny if you consider that I'd just finished an emissions test which means the car was ALREADY RUNNING.

Nothing quite like an ignition screech in the middle of a crowded test site to shatter your confidence. I sheepishly drove away, deciding against glancing in the rearview and counting how many people were laughing at me.

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