Bad news, good news, Bad news, good news, jealous news
The Might Might Mini-Van is 10 years old.
It's seen better days.
It has it's lil quarks that all cars have when then hit the ten year mark.
For instance, my windshield wipers sometimes don't stop. I'll turn the car off and they'll keep going. Or I'll put them on high for a second to clear the windshield and then put them to low, but they'll still dart across my windshield at sub-sonic speeds.
If it's really cold outside, the horn doesn't work.
And the check-engine light has been on for about two years. I've had it checked, but the part that is required to turn off the light is pretty expensive, and I'd rather chance getting stranded on the side of 495 with a blown engine than put in 500-700 dollars to repair it.
It's newwest game it likes to play with me is, "Maybe the turn signals will work, and maybe the won't."
It's a fun game. Basically, I start the car, let the XM start itself and start jamming to tunes as I drive. About say, 15 minutes into my commute someone honks behind me because I make a left turn. And I flip him off for beeping, until I notice that my left blinker isn't blinking.
I then fumble with the hazard lights and the turn indicator waiting for the cross-wiring to recross itself into a way that works.
Tonight, I leave the office, and as I throw on the right hand signal to announce to the phantom cars that may be racing behind me that I am indeed ready to start the drive home, I notice that it's time to play, "Does Nick remember how to use hand signals?"
"Fuck." I say under my breath as I start to play with the hazard lights and indicator.
How long do we play the game today?
How about 20 minutes. Yup, for twenty minutes I try flickering the damn thing to get it to work.
And do you know where it works? About 100 yards from my house. So the problem for now is, "fixed." (For the record, "fixed" in my car lexicon means, "I don't have to spend money on it.")
I walk inside, and grab my Jury Duty notice, because I want to make sure I have everything ready to call tomorrow at 3 to see if I have to serve.
Well I pick it up and lo and behold, my jury duty is tomorrow (technically today, Wednesday).
Now, I've know about the jury duty for a while. And I was prepared for it. But, I was prepared for it on Thursday. In fact, I had canceled and reschuduled work and appointments around it. Basically, moving up a day pretty much threw me in disarray.
"Fuck." I mumble as I take the stairs two at a time, to rush online and see if I can find the number I'm supposed to call.
I'm able to click around the Commonwealth of Massachusetts website and find the jury site, and then find the number for Brockton Superior Court.
"All standby Jurors are canceled."
"Sweet," I think as I open AOL to read what spam I was sent today while I was at work.
I see an e-mail from my mom. It's entitled "BIG NEWS!!!"
Now, I'm a little curious what this news was. I mean, if it was super big I would like to think she would've called me on my cell.
I open the e-mail and I read. "I'm going to opening day!" In big, red "In-your-face" font.
"Fuck. I want to go to opening day."