Friday

The fuzz stole my sunglasses.

Well, they stole my car's sunglasses. I had bought my zoom-zooming Mazda 6s a few years ago as a used car that had been turned in by a lease holder. It was a rainy day, really not the best to be car shopping, but the car really caught my eye. Bright white with dark as night tinted windows. I remember thinking that they couldn't possibly be legal, but I honestly didn't care. The car was sexy and I wanted it. Up until 2 months ago, not a word was said (from anyone with a badge, anyway) about those windows.

As most stories like this go, the police eventually called me out on them. I blame the economy and their need for a quick and easy buck. The officer carefully strutted up to my driver's side window with his hand on his gun and the flashlight in my eyes. "Sorry, I can't tell if there's anyone else in there." I could already tell where this was going. He checked the tint level with a little electronic device that measured how much light would transmit through the glass. He told me they were "13," which was always my lucky number, and thus horrendously illegal. However, he said that if I removed them, I could easily get the ticket thrown out in court. Begrudgingly, I removed them myself and now have to deal with this new sensation I'm experiencing.

I feel so naked. I mean, I'm not a highway mastubator or compulsive nose picker, but I feel like all of my in-car privacy has been stripped away. People look at me now. That's the really big part of it. People would look before but I could tell that they were just trying to see what was inside, but to no avail. Now, they look at me and it's so strange to look to my side in rush hour traffic and meet the gaze of some person staring right back at me. I've lost my on-road anonymity and I don't like it. It's much more disturbing than I thought it would be. My first car didn't have tinted windows at all, so I thought nothing of it when people would look. But having driven a car that offers complete and utter privacy for three years and then losing that, it just feels strange to have this exposure. I also want to note that this is not some vain narcissism, an "Oh! Everyone is looking at me!" type of thing. People look at you when you drive. Not all the time, but enough that it gets awkward in slow rush hour traffic.

The sun, too. Jesus! When did the sun get so bright? When I lowered myself into the driver's seat and shut the door on the clearest blue day in the middle of summer, it was as if I had entered a 220hp cave with satelite radio. It was comfortably dim. I still wore sunglasses, but only when facing directly into the light. Otherwise, they were unnecessary until I ventured out into the world again. Now, I have to wear my sunglasses when it's a bright cloudy day. If I don't, I squint worse than Mr. Magoo.

I have to say that the only benefit I've experienced so far is that I can see better out of my side windows at night. Nighttime walkers and bikers, rest easy for now, for I can see you better than I ever have. Just a reminder, though, I'm getting the darkest legal tints that money can buy as soon as I can get an appointment to do so. So don't throw away those flashy reflectors yet. You'll need them.