Takin’ care of business
In the State of Florida, your vehicle registration renews every year at the end of your birthday month. “Happy Birthday! Did you renew your tags?” Having done that for the past 10 years, it just seems habit by now to assume that when June rolled around this year, it would be the same way. However a city police officer kindly explained to Brian a couple weeks ago that it doesn’t work that way here in Tennessee. Oh, and “welcome.”
Now, getting a ticket is not a horrible thing, especially when getting it for an expired tag. Thats just a bit stupid on our part really. But as the reality set in that we take care of this, I realized we were going to have to do the emissions thing again too (something we don’t have in Florida). And that would be no big deal either, except that the Honda has a muffler problem. And isn’t that all related to emissions?? (the answer is Yes! Yes it is!)
So in order to pass the emissions test, to get the registration renewed, so we could show proof to the court we had done it and be waived of having to show up in court next week (the day B goes out of town anyway!) … I had to go to the muffler shop today to get it fixed.
Last year a mechanic (yes, same as the one taking the Durango back tomorrow to attempt to make it right) said we had a “hole in the flex pipe” and they couldn’t do that type of work but call a muffler shop and they can do it real easy. Yeah, like when I called he said “$149.99 and it will take 15 minutes.”
“15 minutes?” I asked….”$150 DOLLARS? You … you make $600 an HOUR doing flex pipes?” I thought it was sick. He thought it was great.
As I told Brian about it later, he suggested I get a couple friends, go to mechanic school and start fixing flex pipes out of our garage for double. See, he isn’t always so charming.
So I was just really put off by that whole thing and created a mental block against going there. That and car stuff intimidates me. But I wasn’t exactly ready to weld the flex pipe myself this morning, so I went to the muffler shop this morning and before I knew it, the Honda was up on the lift and the guy came back looking at me. “Ma’am…um, the flex doesn’t have a hole in it.”
He must have seen me go pale. “Okay. What is it?”
“Well, I can see why they told you that, but it’s the pipe behind it that’s cracked. I can fix it for $20.”
And no kidding, 5 minutes and a $20 bill later my car was back down and ready to go. Thank you Jesus!
I was so excited I could hardly sit still on the way home. Except that a police officer was behind me. And I didn’t want the police officer behind me, because my Florida brain didn’t put new stickers on the plate yet and I wasn’t wanting his & hers tag violations, so, I quick turned down a residential road and then back so I’d be rid of him.
Feeling excited about what happened at the muffler shop, I decided to go to the emissions place and see if I could get that knocked off my list too. Fortunately, the registration was in the right place and we had no problems! There was even one of these in line with me. Wow!
Here is where I started questioning how far I was gonna get today with the car. I misplaced my license a few weeks back. Also, my name is not on the registration for Brian’s car. So I didn’t know if they would actually let me renew it or not at the county office. I didn’t have current proof of insurance with me either. Oh mercy…what a mess…but I went in anyhow and seriously, it took 2 minutes and I was done. Shocking, I tell you! Shock . ing!
Can I pay for a traffic ticket that’s not mine I wondered? It would give the neighbors much less to wonder about when they (potentially) put out a warrant for his arrest (for an expired tag/no show in court?) if I just tried to take care of it.
I’m sure you know they took my money and cleared him from having to show up in court.
I am one productive chick, y’all. That’s why I get paid the big bucks.
Now, I tell you all this to say: it is easier to do all of the above than to make a freaking return to Old Navy. I thought for sure when I did not present photo ID to the manager last week while making a return, he would phone the police to meet up with me as I exited the parking space. They’re just mad because I don’t use their credit card anymore.