After I left work last night the seatbelt in my car was acting funky. I climbed into the cockpit, as usual, located the partially-depleted can of Pringles, peeled off a stack, and snapped the belt into place.
And it had no bounce-back, if you know what I mean. It extended like it normally does, but there was no play. It just laid there, all limp and lifeless.
The crap? I started monkeying around with it, and couldn’t get it to work correctly. Before I knew it I had roughly twenty yards of seatbelt pulled-out, and it wouldn’t rewind itself.
I wasn’t even aware there was so much belt available; it just kept coming and coming. Man, a person that fat would have to remove both front seats to even fit inside a car. And the stuff was all piled-up at my feet, as useless as a pair of tits on a submarine, or whatever that phrase is.
I got out of the car, and tried to mess with it from a different angle, but it wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t see anything wrong, and all my maneuvering only made matters worse. The shit was hyper-extended, and only moving in one direction.
I’d have to drive home without a seatbelt, and that made me uncomfortable. In the 1980s I didn’t use those things at all, I stuffed them down into the seat like everybody else. But now it’s just second-nature, and I feel like Robbie Knievel if I so much as back my car out of the driveway without first buckling-up.
Wonder if I could plug it into one of the latches in the backseat? I actually considered this. I thought I could use the one on the passenger side, in the back. But, of course, that proved to be logistically impossible, so I just threw the fifteen pounds of fabric and nylon over my left shoulder, and started driving.
Yeah, and I didn’t like it, not one tiny bit. I had visions of me rocketing through the windshield, like a man shot out of a cannon, so I continuously messed with the junction point above my left ear.
Then something cut-loose, and the entire belt retracted into its housing. What a moment! It was as satisfying as getting a two-day popcorn husk out of your teeth, or suddenly busting loose from a traffic jam.
There was so much belt it took a good long time, but eventually all of it returned “home.” And I was able to secure myself, and put all those slo-mo crash test dummies out of my mind.
I sighed with relief, turned up George Noory, and lost myself in a discussion about strange lights over Philadelphia earlier in the evening. And all was right with the world.
I’ll be back tomorrow, with the other half of this half-assed update. Today’s been what we sometimes call a “challenge.”
I don’t really have a Question prepared, so why not just tell us your plans for the weekend? Some of you will read about mine, but only if you’re subscribed to the mailing list. Savvy?
Pass the beer nuts.