Me and THE LAW Part One

I’d like to offer thanks to those who suggested other Adams’ to be inducted to HHHH (see last post.) While I see some merit in the candidacy of 

Scott Adams, 

Don Adams, 

Charles Addams, 

Adam Sandler, 

Adam West, 

and even that gregarious ex-president John Quincy Adams, I wonder what the person who suggested 

Adam’s Apple was thinking.

Your views are under consideration.

But I have other things on my mind right now.

My clothes are in the laundry along with the towel I needed from that extra shower. You see, I had a little accident.

I wasn’t nervous 

just paranoid.

I got a letter from the sheriff’s department. The first time I got a letter from the law, I went into low level fight or flight mode. Am I the only one who worries about this stuff? I figure it’s just a matter of time before the powers-that-be send me up the river for a forgotten library book, or for calling Jenny Frasier bad names when I was five.

But I knew what this was, because I’ve now lived in the state of North Carolina for several years.

The state of North Carolina (along with others as I understand it,) charges sales tax for any car you own – every year. I moved to NC for NY (a state that loves a good tax,) and brought with me my old and much-abused Suzuki Speck (so small you don’t need to park it – just put it in your pocket.) The following year, I get a sales tax bill for my Speck.

"But I didn’t buy this car in North Carolina.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“I paid sales tax for it when I bought it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It’s already paid off.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Alright – so once I pay sales tax here, I’ll only have to pay registration each year?”

“No, you’ll have to pay sales tax on your vehicle every year.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t matter.”

They say that life forms that are abused regularly (horses, dogs, political prisoners, postal employees) begin to feel they deserve it after a while and accept it. When I got my letter from the Sheriff’s department this month, I didn’t even vomit or pee my pants with fear and shock. After pulling myself out of hiding behind the large bush next to my mail box, I opened my letter to see how much I needed to pay to repurchase my 22yo car this year.

That’s when I vomited and peed my pants – not to mention falling into a pile of… something in the middle of the large bush next to my mail box.

JURY DUTY

What’s the big deal? I’ll tell you in Me and THE LAW Part Two.

Unless I get this guy...