Because a Tiled Car Would Be Ridiculous

Usually when I leave work I'm ready to hurry home to all the fun I'm missing on the Internet get back to writing a new novel, but I saw something the other day that made me turn around and re-park. 

Never mind the hubcaps, just make sure it's well carpeted

Here's a view from the front.

You'd never believe it without the pictures, right? And you'd never get away with writing such a spectacle into a story. Imagine the conversation that would go on if you were getting a critique of a novel about a character who had such a car.

"Wait a minute, so...he got the car carpeted?"

"That's right."

"But...how? Why?"

"The carpet store would do it, I guess. Or maybe an auto shop. Maybe there's a guy at the auto shop who's a carpet installer. And he got it done because it looks awesome and it was cheaper than a paint job."

"Is it outdoor carpet?"

"Nope. Just regular carpet, like you'd get in your living room."

"I guess it would save money on car washes."

"Sure, he wouldn't go to the car wash. Well, except to use the vacuum."

"So what does he do when it rains? Cover it with a giant shower cap?"

"I don't know. Stays home, maybe."

"Well that's convenient. And what's with the skulls?"

"It's decorated with a few animal skulls. Other animal bones, too. Like legs, maybe. Oh, and overturned salad bowls."

"Oh, come ON!" 

I know, it's completely unrealistic, yet here we are. Carpeted and beskulled and bebowled.

And in case you couldn't see the hood ornament well enough:

I did go on home after gawking and getting the pictures, although I was tempted to just hang out by the car until the owner returned so I could ask how this all happened. And really, I think we can safely assume the owner isn't a criminal or anything. Wouldn't make the best getaway car, would it? "Sorry, ma'am, we lost the assailant after a brief chase, when he blended in with all the other cars covered with home flooring...".

Come to think of it, my car did look really boring parked next to this one. Thankfully the cobblestones have really livened it up.

Lessons In Character Motivation From A Passive-Aggressive Fish

The daughter was home from college for the semester break for two days when her roommate called and asked, "Um, did you bring Beanie home with you?"

Thankfully Beanie wasn't a dog or a kitten or a human baby, but Beanie was a betta fish, and for a full month he was alone in a dorm room. Probably the dorm room, anyway. They couldn't be sure they didn't set his container down in the parking lot while packing up their cars.

So of course, the girls were fully expecting to return to a dorm room that smelled somewhere between sway-inducing and ferocious. Imagine the shock when roommate arrived this afternoon to find Beanie swimming in his bowl, right on the dresser where they left him. How is this possible, people?

While I was wondering if this was some sort of alien or zombie fish, my friend Shelli Cornelison suggested on Twitter that this could lead to a fun picture book idea. How did this heroic fish survive on his watery island during his month of neglect? Did he leap into the air out of desperation to grab a packet of Ramen Noodles? Scrounge for crumbs from Little Debbie Snacks?

Just as we were discussing this, Daughter called to tell me that Beanie the Wonderfish had the nerve to DIE. Yes, after all that time, he died as soon as he was given his first flake of food.

And now I'm really intrigued. How could he die now, after all he'd been through? Perhaps the food was a shock to his system, but I couldn't help but think of possible motivations Beanie had for hanging on for so long, just to die as soon as help arrived:

• Closure: Maybe Beanie was clinging to life for weeks, but couldn't bear to leave without saying goodbye. As soon as the companion he'd been waiting for arrived, he embraced the sweet release of death. Very Barbara-Hershey-in-Beaches of you, fish.

• Despair: I'm sure he assumed that something terrible happened to his humans. Certainly they wouldn't abandon him for so long, leaving him helpless and hungry. And then they walk through the door and he realizes, "Oh. There you are. You're all right. I guess you would abandon me. I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore."

• Passive-aggressiveness: One can't play the victim without an audience, so Beanie refused to succumb to starvation until he could look into someone's eyes and say, "Thanks for the food, bitches. Peace out."

What other reasons could there be? 'Cause I'm baffled. Obviously, it's perfectly acceptable to attribute human characteristics to a fish in any explanations you can come up with.