Street legal? No.
But the Silver Sub is in the shop and will hopefully be up and running by the end of the day.
Procrastinator that I am, I waited for the last possible moment to get my car to the Inspector-man. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t able to pass me.
It was pretty funny though. Earlier in the day, I was replacing my horn in hopes that it would be the last thing I needed to do in order to pass the safety inspection. I get the horn on there okay and all, but the darn thing still won’t toot! I trace the two wires back to where they rest in the steering column only to find myself upside down, crammed into my driver side floor board staring at a mess of electrical involving, among many other things, the airbag which I imagined would explode on me if I kept on tinkering through the jungle of wires with a screwdriver.
This is where I think to myself, “Hmm…I’m pretty sure I’m way over my head.”
I decide at this point that my best course of action would be to take the Silver Sub to the inspection and fail.
Halfway through the inspection, the Inspector-man walks up to me in the waiting room, shakin’ his head, sayin’ “Herb, man, we’re checkin’ things off left and right”.
This is where I suck air in through my teeth. It’s no longer just the horn.
So now the Silver Sub’s in the shop racking up a bill that I can’t possibly afford. And I await the call from my mechanic hopefully telling me that my car is fixed up and street legal and I will be able to visit my good friend Nort this weekend and drink Hop Slam with him.
That would be sweet.
