Longtime readers remember my first car: a 1989 Toyota Corolla.
Yeah, that's it.
You might recall when I'd had it with that car back in January of 2009 (but kept driving it, hating every blasted, snow-leaking minute, for another year.)
I put it up for sale in December of 2010, and even though I had a few people interested, the sales fell through. Then I was pregnant and couldn't handle any extra tasks, even selling a car; it lived in my garage testing the bounds of my marriage and causing constant digging remarks from my mother.
Well, last week Amelia put the call out: did anyone she know have an old, boxy car that she could use for a commercial shoot? Why yes, in fact, I did have a beloved/gross old car to sell! My car naturally possessed an aged patina with period-appropriate dirt sprays and intact spider webs. She came over to take a look and pronounced it "Perfect!"
They took the corolla away on Thursday to destroy it: flipping it and who knows what else.
Goodbye, car! Have fun being famous/on TV!
(If I was sentimental I'd write an ode to the corolla, but I'm not, so I'm over it.)
I thought that was the end of the car...
Friday night, long after midnight, came a knock on the door. J thought it was the neighborhood kids so he ignored it.
The knocks came again, louder this time: bang, bang, bang!
It was the police.
A very serious Officer C. said, "Hi, are you Carina?"
"Yes?" I answered, nervously running through the past week of my life trying to figure out what I could have done to merit a visit so late on a weekend.
"We found a car registered to you up in Salt Lake in suspicious circumstances."
"Oh! Haha! Yes, I sold the car to a production company yesterday! They were going to flip it and destroy it!"
"Suspicious circumstances," he nodded, "Do you have the name of the production?"
"Hold on, let me call Amelia so we can get the name," as I dialed her. Turns out she doesn't answer her phone at 1a.m. Weird.
"Let me just give you a number to call, " the officer suggested, "And you can give them the details."
With that cleared up, J decided to ask the officer some questions about how he uses math on the job (J likes to provide concrete, real-world examples of "How will I ever use this?" to his students.) Officer C. chatting on our front porch with J for another 10 minutes. I bet our neighbors were dying with curiousity: Friday night, police cruiser, officer on the porch for 20 minutes, a long conversation, a couple of handshakes? Oh, we're the talk again.
So that's how the corolla passed out of my hands and into the realms of regional superstar-dom. I'll be sure to alert you when it's on TV. Set your DVRs.
Speaking of super stars, want half price tickets to Mary Poppins? Of course you do.