The Scary Fiat
Here it is.
Years ago, this happened. Due to some unusual shuffling of cars, my brother-in-law's car wound up in Tommy's possession, and he showed up at the garage to pick up his car and left me a car to drive home.
And I was in the middle of something, and I said to Alex, "Just throw the keys in my pocket."
My hands were too greasy to even touch the keys.
So he does this. And then he leaves.
Hours later, I wash up, lock up the shop and go outside to discover waiting for me at the curb is an old Fiat.
I began to drive it home, and while I was driving I started to have an appreciation for the reverence that Tommy had for his Dodge Dart. Because compared to the Dart, this old Fiat was such a hopeless piece of garbage.
I mean, this thing wheezed and swerved. It did everything imaginable to make a scary ride home. My heart was in my throat the entire time, to say nothing of the fact that my few remaining brain cells were eradicated by the smell of
gasoline.
I had the top up, so I could hear everything in the engine. Every single click and misfire. It was not a good ride home.
So, after a crazy ride home, I finally arrive. I throw the keys on the kitchen table and go to sleep.
I guess, because I was overwhelmed by the gasoline fumes, I had a weird dream. And in this dream, I saw Tommy driving a spiffy, little convertible. And the license plate of this convertible said, Weight. Not W, A, I T, but W, E, I, G, H, T.
And I thought, "What kind of a car would have this license plate?"
And that is the puzzler question.
What kind of a car would that a license plate that says WEIGHT?
