The Haunted Van Strikes Again

Newsletter 2020-07-12

My haunted minivan found a new way to ruin my life, and this time it didn’t even need a massive electrical failure or mysteriously vanishing oil. All it took was two little screws.

Most years, when I renew the license plates for our two minivans (both my wife Lola’s normal one and mine from the assembly line in Satan’s workshop) the Bureau of Motor Vehicles sends me a new sticker to put on the existing plate. It saves them from having to make new plates for everyone every year, and it saves me from having to undo two screws to attach a new plate, which is at the far limit of my technical capabilities. Everyone wins. This year, the BMV decided I had too many stickers and sent me new plates instead. Bold of them to assume I remember how to use a screwdriver.

I got the new plates five days before the old plates expired, and I was going to be gone three of those days for the trip to Minnesota. I knew I would never remember to change the plates when I got back, so I took the plates outside i…