Live to Tell

*You can now get an email letting you know when I've updated Home Fires, by entering your email address in the subscribe box to your right.*

Last week I went to get Lane 1's car out of the impound lot. (Please see the last two posts for the back story if you are new here or have been MIA a while.) The police use a local towing company to keep cars until investigations are complete. When I got there, the lady behind the counter told me it would cost me $175 for storage fees.

For a moment, I forgot that I am a nice lady who lives in the country, and basically went Chicago style on her ass. "You do know why the car is here, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Storage fees, really? Like I was on frickin' vacation and said, 'Hey, ya mind storing my car for a week?' You've gotta be kidding."

The owner came to talk to me and made me an offer I could barely refuse..."I'll buy the car from you for $125 and you can just give me $50 for storage."

"Really! Wow! What a fuckin' bargain! I give you 50 bucks and you keep my kid's car? Are you kidding me?!" I walked out. Pissed off beyond belief. Lucky for me, my friend Jackie was there to talk me off the ledge. She was right, he wasn't worth it, the car wasn't worth it, and I clearly am too straight for jail.

After unloading a ton of fuckery, I went into the cop shop. There I spoke to Officer Awesome and told him what the towing company said. "And I came here because you were almost on your way there to pry me off of that guy's pencil neck." I flashed him a winning smile. Most cops like when you flash them something. Lucky for me, just my smile did the trick.

Before I got home, the towing company had called to say, "The fees have been waived. Feel free to pick up the Omni at your convince."

I felt vindicated as I walked out of there with my broad Chicago style shoulders. I climbed into that boys' locker-room smelling, twisted metal hunk of a car feeling like a circus clown loaded up on meth as it puttered all the way back home.

Remember last week when I told you guys about that nice man from the church who wanted to collect money for a car fund for Lane 1? He came forward anonymously, so I told the messenger to let him know we appreciated it, but it wasn't necessary. Well... he did it anyhow.

He sent... are you ready for this shit?

$1,000 to replenish the boy's bank account.

Isn't that crazy?! I can't tell you how excited the boy was. It is still driving him crazy trying to figure out who did such a nice deed. I hope my kid remembers every detail of this whole story because there's a ton of lessons to be learned.

---

Things I've learned this week:

Besides all of the above... Before screaming at the top of your lungs, and threatening to beat the living shit out of the dog for tripping you while you're putting dinner in the oven, you should make certain your teenager isn't in the kitchen. Otherwise he may start singing "In the arms of the angel..." just like the animal abuse song on Animal Planet's ASPCA commercial, because you may laugh so hard, you almost drop the roast for a second time.

If you see a new mom back to work, wait until it's just the two of you to whisper into her ear that her boobs are leaking, otherwise she may burst into a postpartum depression fit and bawl right there in front of everyone, making her mascara leak too. Thankfully, I didn't have the heart to let her know there was also a giant stream of spit-up down the back of her blazer.

Waking a man up with oral sex is like giving him a winning lottery ticket. Don't ask, just trust me.

When you are really sick and your chest is wheezing so much that you are whistling through your tits, you can still eat crackers without the crumbs blowing out of your nips like confetti at Times Square on New Years.

You're welcome!