Dude, where's my car?

12.3.2kXII

Here is yet another reason to detest the TSA:

The story starts with my trusty backpack.  It's likely 12 years old or so.  I carried it to work every day (when I commuted to work).  I took it on countless airline trips - to and from Chicago, Florida, SF, Spring Training ... even to Europe and S. America.

I recently decided that it was lookin' kinda scuzzy (dirty) so I took everything I could find in its myriad zippered pockets and chucked it in our "high tech" washing machine on its "delicate" setting  w/ low spin.  It came out nice and clean and BLACK.

I was turning it over, inspecting it and preparing to hang it on our clothesline when out of it dropped the faceplate to my car stereo! 

I NEARLY filled my shorts.

As I stood there - slack-jawed- staring at the faceplate on the ground, I thought about it:  I listened to the car stereo the day before while my backpack sat on my bedroom floor, waiting to be laundered.  WTF?  I got my car keys and went out to Jailbreak the Jeep.  The faceplate was just where it should be.  Things got curiouser.

A foggy, grey memory started to come into focus.  Way way back in the bean I remember losing the thing and replacing it.  I think I blamed my sister for losing it while it and its in-dash unit were in Piggy the Saab 900.

But the STOOPID thing is that I carried it around with me the whole time.  It's been in my backpack for 10 years.  And here's why this is another reason to hate TSA:  They knew it was in there.  They saw it every time it went through their xray machines.  Fuckers never told me.

Tonight - Homestead.

Wishing the entire TNSC family a Merry Xmas and very happy New Year.  In accordance of Thursday Night Social Club bylaws, next week's meeting is officially cancelled.  See you all in 2013!!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!