Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Not Just an Idiot. A CERTIFIED Idiot.

So last month when my car blew up in New Jersey, I figured the one small upside to this development was that I would no longer have to pay a king's ransom in liability insurance every year. I was shelling out around $1500 a year for a car that wasn't even worth a grand, for a car that I used maybe once a month for anything substantial. Financial idiocy, I'm aware, but freedom is precious, man.

Today I called Geico to cancel my policy and they informed me I couldn't stop paying my insurance until I surrendered my plates to the New York DMV. This poses something of a problem since my plates are currently still attached to the car, which sits somewhere in a junkyard in rural New Jersey with Bubba, although I can't for the life of me remember where, since I think my memory chose to blot out most of the details of this painful day. Bubba probably knew that I needed to take the plates off, and failed to inform me, which probably has something to do with the fact that he knew he was ripping me off by taking the car "off my hands." I feel secure in the knowledge that he raped and pillaged it for my brand-new $1100 a/c compressor shortly after I rolled away in a rental car. But that's a whole 'nother story about my own stupidity.

ANYWAY, apparently it's common knowledge that you're supposed to take your plates with you, although I guess I missed that class in Remedial Life Lessons 101 -- I was probably out on a stolen hall pass, or something. Since I have no plates, I have to bring a notary-signed letter to the DMV explaining just how I could be so stupid as to not have retained my license plates. The letter goes something like this:

"Dear DMV. Please don't be mean to me. My insurance is expensive and I don't want to pay it anymore. I am stupid, so stupid. I know I should have known that you take your plates with you, and I think I even left all the paperwork in the car! Oh merciful DMV, please let your cheerful employees smile upon me today with a substitute receipt for my nonexistent plates. I promise pretty please promise the car isn't on the road anymore, although Bubba is probably currently enjoying my brand-new a/c compressor in one of his other vehicles. If you make me track down the plates I don't know what I'll do, because I'm the world's biggest idiot."

Then I have the notary stamp it -- making me not just an idiot, but a certified one.

(Post on Unicorns and irony still forthcoming.)


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