About a week ago I came to the startling revelation that the CD player in my car doesn’t want to work anymore. He has been thinking about this for quite some time now. He was a loyal worker for the better part of 12 years and has now decided that it’s time for retirement.
I’m pretty sure he made plans for a trip to Las Vegas to, in his words, “get blasted.” I’m not certain what that means, but I have a feeling it could involve drinking and loud music.
In any event, his sudden departure from work has left me in quite a bind. While I would love to trade in my ’99 model for a much newer, sleeker, sexier version of transportation, I don’t necessarily need to.
What I do need though, is a new stereo to groove to whilst I drive. I can see myself now, sitting back in my driver seat and cranking out the beats like Ichiro cranks out base hits.
In order to do this, however, I needed to buy the stereo equipment. Naturally I made my way down to the local Future Shop and that’s when the salesman said the two words that will haunt my debit card like poor decisions haunt Britney Spears: installation costs.
So really, to install the equipment costs almost as much as the actual equipment. Not cool. But what’s a guy to do? I need music and they have the means to supply me with the music. My hands are tied.
At least I’ll be able to enjoy the many different sounds my new stereo is sure to possess. Of course, now I won’t be able to afford gas.