Saab Story

I drive a 1992 Saab 900 convertible. That is how I got to the worst job I ever had, located in Foster City. This is not a car I chose for myself, though I do love to drive it. It belongs to a friend and former colleague who left the country and left the car with me.

Now, back in 2002 I got a ticket for not having registration and a broken tail light. I fixed the tail light and registered the car, but I guess while getting ready to go to Africa I forgot to have the ticket signed off. for the next 2 years, I registered my car, but unbeknownst to me, at some point, I had a failure to appear on the original ticket and had to go to court to clear it.

Well, its a long and tedious story of how a registration and broken tail light ticket, spiral into a suspended license, failure to appear and a warrant for your arrest but none the less, that is what happened.

There I was driving down Hillsdale Blvd to go to Whole Foods for something to lunch and I get pulled over, "side walk arrested" and my car, full of rafting gear for the weekend, impounded.

I am pretty sure I am in hell. I think Foster City is the 7th ring.