A Comedy of Errors

Photo courtesy of the Internet (not my license plate)

Monday evening I met a friend of mine for dinner. On our way out, we stopped near the back of my car to chat. For some reason, Terri was drawn to my license plate and read the number/letter combination out loud. Then she said, "Do you realize that your plates expired in September?"

What? No! That can't be right. I looked down and yes indeed, even at night the evidence was plain as day. September 2013. Here it is Presidents Day 2014, and I'm cruising around with expired plates.

I drove home, sheepishly, carefully, certain that now--after nearly five months driving around as a scofflaw--I was jinxed simply by knowing.

Once home, I dug through my paperwork to try and figure out how the hell this happened. I am meticulous and careful about such things. This was a near impossibility.

Nope. It had not been paid. We moved a little over a year ago. Somehow Dave's license plates had been renewed in that time but what happened to mine? No matter, it was time to deal with the problem.

Dave volunteered to go to DMV first thing Tuesday morning. I wasn't sure if it would be a problem, since his name was not on the registration. He took my registration and the checkbook.

Apparently the first day after a holiday is THE worst day to visit DMV. Dave later reported around 75 people were waiting to be served. He stood around for a bit, talking to another fellow in the queue, explaining our circumstances. That man told Dave it was unlikely they would allow him to renew the plates without my driver's license. Dave left.

I was not at all comfortable leaving my driver's license with Dave so he could return the next day. That would surely be flirting with disaster. Expired plates + missing driver's license = flashing cop car lights in the rear view mirror. I would do it myself, first thing Thursday morning.

But wait, while I'm there, why don't I see about adding Dave's name to the title? That way there could be no question in the future. I found the title, safely stashed away in our security box.

Turns out Dave's name was already on the title. I looked again at the registration. Both our names were there. Apparently neither of us were observant enough to notice this little detail.

Oh well, I still had to take my punishment. There is a hefty penalty for allowing your plates to expire. Plus, who knows if one of the notoriously grouchy DMV workers would give me a hard time for being incompetent. Nah, they would just want the money.

I looked online to make sure I had everything necessary to renew in person. Proof of insurance! I located the insurance certificate, lounging quietly in the glovebox, noted its expiration date was March and left it on the table with all the DMV paraphernalia.

Thursday morning dawns, time to get organized. I rechecked to make sure I had everything. Then I looked again at the insurance certificate. Expiration date: 3/30/13. Oh good lord, I tell myself, please come to terms with the fact that it's 2014 already.

When I signed up for electronic notifications from our insurance company, apparently that also applied to the evidence of insurance certificate. I logged online and printed a copy.

Off to DMV. Thankfully only a handful of people were inside. I waited less than five minutes for service, explained the situation to the no-nonsense clerk as she changed our address in the computer. When I slid the insurance certificate her way, she told me that her happy little computer already confirmed that we had insurance. No need for a paper copy.

I paid the $100 incompetence tax, plus an additional $102.35 retroactive ownership tax so that DMV could collect the money they missed out on from September to February. My new expiration date is February 2015.

Never again.

(Gratuitous photo of my car, isn't she a beauty?)