So yesterday Judd and I left work early to go to the San Jose Superior Court: Traffic Court. He was there on business, I was merely observing. On the way to said Superior Court: Traffic Court, we stopped at no less than 3 car stereo stores so Judd could attempt to find a magical cord so that he could plug his iPod into the CD changer jack in the back of his head unit. Let me make this clear so that everyone understands: I hate car stereo store workers. Perhaps it’s their bleached Eminem-esque haircuts, or their penchant for wearing their cell phones strapped to their belts as if old Commish Gordon is going to be requiring their Moster Cable installation experience at any moment. Or maybe it’s just because I know nothing of their field and am therefore intimidated and scared of any member of the profession. Whatever the reason, I don’t like them. However, I very much like the products that they sell, which puts me in a sort of a bind. Do I talk to them and get the information I want? Or do I not and have a subwoofer-less car? I just wanted to punch the guy in his face, but then ask him if he could hook me up with one of those awesome screens that slide out of the dash and flip up. Those things are like lesbian ninjas with guns: awesome.