11/10/03

Why the Car Nazis can Lick my Nuts

Back in the day, I used to do a lot of stuff with cars. I hung out with car people. I worked on cars. I raced cars. From time to time I flew cars. One of the hardest things that I've had to deal with here was at first not having my car, and then having my car CLEAR UP A GIGANTIC GODDAMN HILL. It's a sneaky trick, because by the time I get to my car, I want to get in it and just go to sleep. The lots are so damn far away that getting to my car kills any desire on my part to go anywhere.

    Of course, there are other problems. Moving the car anytime S.H.I.T. plays a football game is one of them. The theory is that over 1000 people want to come here to watch our team. That assumption is wrong. There is a little lot next to the stadium that is more than large enough to accommodate all the spectators that might possibly ever come to a game, even if they were all driving fucking school buses. Of course, no. Just in case people actually start to show up to games, I have to move my car to the field training camp which is approximately 7 miles away from campus and ride a prison bus back. Yay. If you're really lucky, the bus hits your car. It's awesome. Also in the category of totally awesome are the rates I have to pay to have my fucking car insured in the godforsaken state that S.H.I.T. is in. Let's just say that in Chicago I paid a fairly hefty $100 a month to insure my wheels. In this flyblown stench-ridden bucket-of-diseased-carp state I have to pay $163.  Adieu to 1/3 of my monthly income for the privilege of having the shit kicked out of my car by roads that for the most part are passable only by humvee.

    These things I can deal with. They annoy me, but I can deal with them. However, as of late something has pushed me over the edge in dealing with this whole car thing. Car Nazis. It's what I call whoever keeps going through the lots to see if cars have decals on them. But, hold on. A bit of background first. My car is covered up in the highest lot so that drunk idiot cadets don't hit it (like they did last year when they dented my quarter panel). I don't compete for the choice spaces down lower. I keep my shit up and out of the way so nobody will bother it. So, imagine my surprise when I go up to the lots to find that some dirty pigfucking sonofabitch has pulled the cover up off the car. I wish I could have caught the bastard who did it; truthfully, it'd almost be worth them taking the cover off the car so that I could catch them in the act and administer liberal punches in the face, nut-stomps, and then tie them behind the car and drag them around for a couple hours.

     So, nut-stomps aside, fetcheth I my removed car cover from the woodsy area into which it has blown. Stuffeth I it in the back of the car. Taketh I off. I come back, park the car and get out and go back down. I get an email harassing me about stickers on the car and the various fun things they will do to me and my unsuspecting car if I don't go apologize for not getting them, do ten hail Leos and then register right away. I tell them where to stick their stickers. 

    I don't want stickers. I don't care that it takes me an extra 5 minutes to get back on post, just because I really don't want to have to deal with getting all the shit out of the car, copying it, taking it to the trolls in the office of registering vehicles, taking the shit back up to the car, waiting around for the sticker and then going to the car to put it on. The sum economic loss of time I deal with by not having stickers is less than the shit I would have to deal with in taking all that time to fuck around with the registry bastards. Furthermore, who gives a shit? Truthfully, I'd rather they DIDN'T have a little dossier about my car. I'd rather they just left it the fuck alone. 

    I hear the tools in the audience right now bristling. First off, fuck y'all if you're the shitheads behind this. Second off, yes I do know the intent. I can hear your dippy asses right now, and you're saying,"The intent is to keep underclassmen from having cars, hooah. Don't you want to keep people who haven't earned that from having them?" By making me get a sticker, you know some plebe doesn't have a sports car up here. Well, nevermind that my insurance costs more than you pay those poor bastards, but truthfully, I don't give a rats ass whether they have cars or not. They can have fucking Bradleys for all I give a shit. If I could have had a car here when I was a plebe, I'd be a hell of a lot more happy and stable than I am now. There are all have these shitty rules and then I'm expected to be a participant in enforcing them. Fuck off. 

    Second in line are fuckers who go around turning people in for parking illegally. By illegally I mean totally legally but in places cadets aren't allowed to park. If you're the asshole officer who goes around following cadets to see if they're getting in a car parked on Thayer Road, I have a bumper with your name on it. If you're the asshole who spends his Saturday nights away from his family to hang out in the motel lots to see if plebes and yuks have cars there, I hope you die of venereal disease.

   Here's the bottom line; cars ARE a privilege. My thinking is they are a privilege you've earned when you can pay for one. I paid for mine.  Go near it, and I'll decide that maybe wearing skin is a privilege you need revoked.

Sarcasm 6, out