But wait, there's more!

It seems that the memories of my life will involve an entire section about my car. My beloved SLK 320. So today, I was feeling a bit lonely and ho-hum, what with the stress of work weighing down on my shoulders. What could be better then an afternoon pick-me-up with some quality time spent driving in my awesome car?

So I get in, and ponder to myself, idly, "I wonder where my front license plate is. ..."

But it was just a stray thought, something to occupy the time in-between what I'll be getting for lunch, or where I'm going for coffee, or if I should change my radio station even though it's really good but couldn't it get that much better, and work blah-blah. Besides, it's probably in the trunk.

Lunch... coffee... computers...

Back in the ride and this time, parked at work, doing that last moment of meditation before I face "the office" once more. It's then that I find my front license plate.

Half of it peeking out from underneath the center console because the top half is...

wait for it

...

.

.

UNDERNEATH the center console.





Oh yes, that fabulous install job? Well, yeah.. the mechanic obviously didn't see the license plate there when he installed the console because he covered it up almost completely.

So there I am, trying to remember to breathe, as I'm desperately trying to pull the plate out from underneath the plastic. It's not budging. It can't go any further down, though, because it's already on the floor of the car. And, well, I obviously can't pull it up and out.

Heavy...

Sigh.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, reality proved you wrong.