Your Truck!… It’s Illegal!

This morning, at about 07:30, I was out on the walkway enjoying my coffee and a beautiful morning. (Sadly, the condo I am now in has its balcony enclosed so there is no outside space except on the walkway out front.) Fortunately, mine is a corner unit so I am not in anyone’s way here on the second floor.

I often sit in the corner, in my camp chair, and enjoy being outside. I have met several neighbors, and everyone has been very cordial. So naturally, I thought that this “new to me person” would be similarly disposed. 

As she approached, she pulled out her cell phone and started taking pictures of my truck. I get many comments about it regularly. Mostly because of its different color, and that there aren’t many Broncos out on the road yet, so I was not surprised at this, except that she kept taking pictures, lots of pictures from every angle. She squatted down and took pictures of the wheels and tires, all four of them! 

After a couple minutes of this behavior, I realized that she had not yet noticed me sitting in the corner on the second floor watching her. I waited a moment for her to stop taking pictures, and then said, in the most pleasant tone of voice that I could muster, “Ya know, I normally charge a dollar for glam shots.” I honestly said this in the most “new neighbor” smiling, friendly voice I own.

She looked up, took my picture, and said her first words to me. “You KNOW your truck is ILLEGAL don’t you?” 

Under different circumstances and in a tone of voice more friendly and much less screechy and breathless, I would have thought that this was a great joke, but the first thing my little monkey mind said to me was, “yikes, rut-ro!”

Recovering quickly, I waited another beat before I responded with, “Good morning, isn’t it a beautiful day?” This did nothing to help soften her mental and emotional state. She, without acknowledging my greeting, began a tirade about everything she could find “illegal” about my truck. 

I do have to give her credit, she named almost all of the exterior changes I have made to this Bronco. “Your tires and wheels are not OEM (OEM means Original Equipment from the Manufacturer). You aren’t allowed to have a push-bar on the front. These exterior lights, ALL OF THEM, they are all illegal. You even have big lights on the back! My god man, you have a huge bullet on the hood! (it’s my radio antenna made out of a .50 caliber bullet) And this license plate frame, Gunsite Academy, Gunsite, what’s that mean anyway? Are you some kind of crazy right-wing, gun nut, Trump radical?”

At this point, it registered with me that this was an early morning angry little troll so, what the hell, I have enough coffee left in my cup to enjoy this.

“Ma’am, I’m a little surprised that you didn’t notice that the truck is also lifted two inches and is leveled.”

“Oh my goodness”, she said, “that’s not allowed either”, and then immediately took close-up pictures of, I kid you not, all four wheel wells. By this point, I think she had taken two dozen pictures of my truck.

I admit that I can be naive at times, so thinking that if I explain things to her, it might help her mood, was probably a mistake, but here I go anyway.

“Ma’am, Florida traffic, vehicle, and inspection code does specify that if a truck has exterior, roof-mounted lights they must be covered when not in proper use. I have the covers in the truck. I don’t put them on the lights, because if one blows off I can’t replace it with just one cover. I have to buy the entire set of eight covers which…” she interrupted me with a screech, “eight lights!”… more pictures… “which costs more than the ticket.” Also, I know that the tires are not OEM, and they do stick out farther than the fenders, but just a little bit.” I swear I said all of this in a kind voice, possibly misinterpreted, as if explaining a thing to a child.

Now it was her turn. “We are OWNERS (my first clue) not RENTERS! My husband is on the HOA board! (HOA means Homeowners Association) We passed LAWS outlawing (she actually said outlawing) these,… these loud, ugly, off-road vehicles here. And you RENTERS, you think that you can just come in here, driving any kind of stupid souped-up ugly thing you want, and that is going to be all right with US! Well, it’s NOT all right, not at all, not one little bit mister!  I am going to report you to the HOA first thing Monday morning, so you better start looking for another place to park your stupid ugly truck because it won’t be allowed back in here.”

By this time my coffee was nearly gone and I definitely needed more, so I thanked her for sharing this information with me and asked if she would like a coffee.

Her final salvo at me was, “NO, I don’t want any coffee.” As she began walking away she turned back toward me and stomped one foot and said, “You aren’t allowed to sit out there either!”

About halfway through my second coffee, my neighbor from down the walkway came out and looked around. “Is she gone?” I laughed and said yes. I went in and made Ryan a coffee. As he was sipping his coffee and staring down at my “illegal” truck, and I was giving some head scratches and love to Montana, his beautiful golden retriever, he said to me, “So, I see you met Karen.” I said, “Yea, no kidding, that’s a classic Karen buddy.” 

“No Chuck, her name, her real name is Karen.”

(looking forward to Monday’s email)