My roommate had a rough Thursday

My roommate DH has been having car issues. For someone who doesn't wear a seat belt in spite of multiple tickets, he seemed overly worried about an expired registration. (A small segue to explain the seat belt thing: he claims that he will fly through the windshield and land on the road on all fours with "cat-like grace" in case of a high speed crash. This will avoid him having a bruise across his chest with that restraining nuisance they require drivers to wear. He hasn't had a chance to put this theory into action. Yet.)

Either way, he needed to get his somewhat beat-up but still mostly functional '98 Camry registered. For which you need a state inspector to inspect and pass the car for safety. And in what has to be one of the top ten convenient ways to screw people over, the place you need to get an inspection also happens to be a mechanic shop, and if the mechanic, oh-so-concerned about your safety in your vehicle fails your car, you *have* to get the car fixed in the *same* shop, by law.

So whats the probability that the inspector will actually pass your car in the first go? That's right. Zero.

Which is exactly what happened to my roommate. However, while you and I may have rolled over and taken it in the tailpipe, DH actually knows cars, and had worked on the car the previous week to make it look OK enough to pass the inspection. So naturally, he was mad. After a bit of grandstanding on both sides, he then did what I may not have done. He brought a second inspector from somewhere and a lawyer buddy of his. Inspector #1 backed down grudgingly and gave the car the A-OK.

And then as DH was driving home in triumph, He noticed an acrid smell emanating from the car. Seconds later, his car radio turned off. As many of you know, this is often the kiss of death for the automobile. Fearing the worst, he tried to exit the highway, but as he was heading over to the exit, the car choked, gasped, and breathed its last in one giant cloud of smoke. The damn thing nearly caught fire. Turns out the starter was screwed up, didn't disengage, and had burnt itself out. And no, this isn't something that the inspector could have done to spite DH; this was just an old car crapping out. You'd think that that was bad enough, but guess who owned the towing company that had to drag the automotive corpse off the road. Yep. Inspector #1. (I have no idea how much he charged him, but DH isn't talking much today, and I don't want to pry).

But it didn't end there. So they came back to the house and left the car, and my roommate went to the laundry room to get a tarp to cover the driver's side window (he had it down when this happened and all the wiring was fried, so he couldn't get it up). As he took the thing down, a conveniently placed can of wood polish (mahogany finish) got knocked off the shelf and into the conveniently open laundry tub. He has spent a good six hours cleaning up and is still trying to get the stuff out as of today, but it looks like our washer has permanently acquired a woody finish. So will the next few loads, I'm sure.

And did I mention he had his law school final exam on Friday?

So, for the second time in as many days, I realize Karma can be a biatch. (Its a pity though. DH is a good man. Maybe it has something to do with him aspiring to be a lawyer; so maybe this is like a preemptive karma strike for all the wretched deeds he is going to commit...)

Car:



Washer (after 4 wash cycles with rags):