Since my computer at home has crapped out by refusing to start-up right, instead just flashing me the Blinking Cursor of Doom, posts may be more sporadic than usual. But while I have yet to fully resolve that issue (overheating may be part of it), another issue has been taken care of, and it’s one I was dreading: the license plating of my car.
Here in Arkansas, you get 30 days from a car’s purchase to asses it and slap a permanent tag on it, although I frequently see cars with temporary paper tags that expired weeks ago flapping in the wind. But I have an unnatural fear of getting pulled over, because of
a particularly traumatic stop a couple years ago something you don’t care about.
I trekked to the revenue office last week, nervously clutching my paperwork and waiting for my number to come up. As it took about five years to get an Arkansas license and tag, I was not optimistic. But lo and behold, all the paperwork appeared to be in order. Except for the paperwork adorned with faces of dead president. That’s right: when the clerk told me the total, I sputtered, “Uh, is that due now?” She said yes. I was hoping to get on a monthly installments plan, or perhaps proffer sexual favor as payment.
Long story short, after doing everything short of setting up a kettle outside and ringing a bell to solicit donations, I leave without paying. And since the state offices were closed Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I didn’t have another chance until this morning, when I finally got it settled. I was mortified at the time, but I’m betting stuff like that happens to everyone at some point or another. There are two lessons to be learned: 1) Car taxes are a bitch and 2) Don’t major in liberal arts, boys and girls. Poetic and eloquent poverty is poverty all the same.
Now, no more messing with that place until the summer, when the tag I transferred expires. In the meantime, how is your state/province/territory as far as licensing and registering vehicles? Any horror stories?