October 27, 2008

My mini-van is haunted.
It isn't enough that I traded in my sexuality to bounce the streets in an mini-van. I had to end up with a haunted one. The van belonged to Leo, Eric's step-dad and we bought it from his son when he passed away a little over a year ago. I never really got to know Leo that well. He was sneaky and he looked just like an egg but he was always nice to me. In fact, I liked Leo because I appreciated his sneakiness.

The first haunting came about a few months ago when the van alarm went off in the middle of the night disturbing Pleasantville. I flew out of bed like a Halloween cat sure that some punk was up in my property trying to make off with my toll tag. Once my pupils shrank down to a normal size and I saw there was no one around I had to shuffle around in the dark to find the little key remote to turn off the alarm. I went back to bed dismissing this incident as a strong gust of wind or someone's cat.

A few nights later at approximately the same time, the alarm went off again. This time I was sure there was a punk after my toll tag. I peeked out the window and nothing was there. No cats and no breeze. The hair on the back of my neck was all, "What up home skillet?! Haaaayyyy!!" I told the back of Eric's head to get the gun. He responded with a grunt, fired off an air bagel and managed to scratch a ball. The next morning we discussed the alarm going off and Eric said it was probably the battery going dead. This sounded logical enough to me so I let it go, and for a couple of weeks nothing happened.

Then one night while I was driving down the highway the locks started popping up and down and the cabin lights were flashing like a strobe light. The "Door Ajar" indicator light came on so I pulled over and checked all of the doors. They were shut tightly. I got back into the van and the locks kept popping up and down accompanied with that constant DING!DING!DING! This was when I realized Leo was back and having a fine giggle over my puckered butt hole. You can't imagine what it's like to drive a possessed vehicle down a busy interstate in the dark hoping a cop wouldn't see my little mobile disco scene. I made it home alright and of course the van was on perfect behavior so that Eric never once witnessed any of the mania.

This has happened many times since and never when Eric is around or driving. I'm sure he thinks I'm going a little Tom Cruise but just smiles and says, “We'll get it checked out honey...” It happened again this morning on my way to work but I've gotten use to it now. I quit locking the van so the alarm won't go off and when the locks start popping up and down, I just beat the dash board to turn the volume up on the radio because it doesn't work either. The volume is either completely gone or so loud that you have to roll down the windows to let some of the noise out.

I figure if some punk manages to get hold of my toll tag, they'll end up with a bit of Leo too and that's all the justice I need. Heh... Heh... Heh...