I opened my mailbox, expecting bills, junk coupons, maybe another brochure about lawn fertilizer. Instead, a thick, glossy packet slid out with a thud. The cover featured a dramatic photo of a winding suburban street with animated sparkles around parked cars, like some kind of magical parking utopia. Across the top in bold lettering. The Community Vehicle Harmony Initiative presented by Bluff Neighborhood Mobility Council. A council? We didn’t have a council. I leaned against the mailbox and flipped it open.
The first page had a letter from the desk of acting coordinator K. Allen. Karen had rebranded herself. Whenever she reinvented her title, the situation was never good. The letter claimed that due to recent vehicular disturbances caused by resistance to universal access measures, the neighborhood would implement a new set of mandatory regulations. Mandatory. She loved that word. The next pages outlined a ridiculous list of rules, each more illegal than the last.
All vehicles must be registered with the Mobility Council. Owners must provide an emergency access key upon request. Driveways may be inspected without notice for compliance. Parking zones may be reassigned at any time for harmony redistribution. Unauthorized vehicle silhouette patterns will incur penalties. Vehicle silhouette patterns. A real human being type that. At the back of the packet was a payment page, the part she cared about most. Mobility harmony. Contribution fee $89 due within 5 days. She included a QR code linking to a PayPal account named Bluff Vehicle Safety Fund.
I laughed out loud right there at my mailbox at 7:30 in the morning, like a man who had reached the point where the only sane reaction to insanity was amusement. But when I looked up, I stopped laughing because there she was, standing across the street by her Prius, dressed in a navy blazer and tan slacks, wearing a fake earpiece that was very clearly not connected to anything.
She watched me read her packet with the expression of someone waiting for praise they absolutely didn’t deserve. I held up the booklet. “A new council.” She nodded proudly. “Formed due to community demand.” “What community?” I asked. “Residents have expressed overwhelming concern.”
