Inspection sticker: another way to get anally raped by the state of MA.

too much? Was that title too much for you? I know it’s early, and we’re all back from the long weekend (well, some of us anyway), and we’re all clicking around on the intarweb, maybe having a nice cup of coffee when BAM, anal rape all up in your face. Well, I’m sorry, but SOMEBODY had to say it. Why do we have to get our cars inspected anyway? And why, once the sticker expires, do they keep ticketing us OVER and OVER and OVER again until our bank accounts are empty and we can’t walk straight?

It started on Friday morning. I made the fatal mistake of pausing at the toll booth to ask where I could get my East Boston discount EZ-pass (the $3 charge to drive through a rotting tunnel is another way the commonwealth shows its dark love). When I looked up, there was a cop waving me over to the side of the road. Mind you, it’s 8:40 on Friday morning, and I’m **this close** to being late for work. He took pity on me and issued a warning, waving me on my merry way.

I wanted to get my car looked at that afternoon, but since my passenger side mirror is held on by packing tape and a prayer, I figured that my chances of passing were slim, at best. Katsumi said he’d help me super-glue the mirror over the weekend, with the hope that I could get my inspection on Monday.

That night, not twelve hours later, I left my apartment to find a ticket on my car. Twenty bucks, expired inspection sticker.

Saturday and Sunday were busy – my sister was in town, there was shopping to do, apples to be picked, and family time to be had, plus Katsu spent most of the weekend working on some code or whatever computer people work on when they’re not away from their machines. So there was no super glueing of my mirror, and the tape is still holding strong.

This morning I dropped my coffee grinder on the floor, which I took as a sign of impending doom. Sure enough, when I got out to my car, I found ANOTHER ticket for the expired sticker. So now, I don’t know what to do. I can’t super-glue the mirror on by myself, I can’t get my car inspected with the tape, and if I get one more ticket and they’ll probably fucking boot me, and then I will kill myself. You see this progression, Massachusetts? Sticker = boot = death. Death!! Which means one less tax-paying citizen!! Clearly, I should be spared any further indignity, but MA is a cruel, cruel master.

The moral of the story: don’t sideswipe dumpsters, because it’ll really suck when your car has to pass code and you’re driving around with your shit held on by packing tape.

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