I call the place I find online and head over that afternoon. I walk in to the very plain reception area. Behind the counter is an older, really tall man. Quick chat about my plan for the car and then he sends a mechanic to get my car. While he's away from the counter I take a look around. Business cards, random book about fears, key chains, pamphlets about the company...with the same old guy in the picture. The guy in that picture is the guy behind the counter! Trippy! Ok, not really.
He gives me a voucher for a free drink at Burgerville, which is just across the street, since I am choosing to wait for my car to get done and there isn't much going on in their waiting area. I gladly accept and go get fattening deliciousness to eat while I read and wait. I eat slowly and read for a while. I feel kind of awkward sitting in this place all by myself. Reading a book and eating food, all alone. I must look like a loser. Quick mind set change! I look like someone who's eating and reading a book while waiting for her oil change to get done. Sometimes, I really think too much.
When I was finally done eating, I gathered up all my things (how do I have a pile of things to cart around with me everywhere I go?) and headed back to the shop. I expected to have to wait some more, even though it had already been an hour, but as soon as I walked in the door, he was ready to talk to me.
And talk he did...He had an actual printed list of all the things wrong with my car. Oy vey. I expected it really. I know there are a few issues my car is having right now. But I can only afford to take care of so much at a time ya know? I avoid going to Jiffy Lube now because they always look at me so judgy when I get an oil change there. It's because I'm always late getting it done, and because there are always so many other problems that my car needs fixed. They seem to think that I'm a moron. Hey! I pay you guys to change my oil. Not to judge me. I bought this car. I can run it into the ground if I want to! (Not that I do. Not at all)
So, for starters, of course the stupid sound I wanted checked out didn't make a peep for the mechanics. So they said I can bring it in when it starts making it again (incidentally it started literally as soon as I pulled out of the mechanics driveway). Next up.
"There was oil everywhere."
Uh huh.
"Like, everywhere. You've got a couple leaks. Made a real mess."
Uh huh...
"Your rear brakes are worn down. Your front are at 45% but your back are down to 4% and you should start worrying when it gets to about 20%."
Boy that seems like something I should get taken care of eh?
"Engine seal mechanic jargon mechanic jargon water pump mechanic jargon gasket mechanic jargon."
I see. So...how much do all of these things cost? I just got some Christmas money, I can take care of some of it. And C gets back to town tomorrow. I'll have rent shortly after that from her so I'll still have some shopping money for presents.
"Well these will cost about...."
And then he proceeded to call for prices and part availability and made a very thorough list of all the things I would need done and how much it would cost. Suddenly the total jumped to over $800 and I stopped listening. I would be better off buying a new car. So I ask him what things I should get fixed first. Which were the most important things to get taken care of? Brakes apparently won that. Ok, cool. Those only cost about $200. I can handle that. I make an appointment for the next day (they have to order the parts so they can't do it now, while I'm already here, of course) and go back home.
This time I actually had to set an alarm and make a point of getting out of the house before 10. I don't have a set time to get to the mechanic but he did say morning and I know most people don't consider anything after 11 "morning". As I was filling up my gas tank the mechanic called me to make sure I was still coming in.
5 minutes guys. 5 minutes.
I drop my car off and stay at the shop this time instead of going to Burgerville again. I walk down the hallway to the waiting area where 2 or 3 other women were waiting for there cars. From what I could tell while I was there (for over 2 hours) is that men do not wait at the mechanic shop for their cars to be done. They have someone else to drive them around and free them from the dull, boring, quiet waiting room. There was one small poofy love seat and a bunch of lightly padded wooden chairs. I chose the puffy love seat over the uncomfortable looking wooden chairs even though the love seat looked kind of....grimey. I chose to ignore the dirt because I'm sure that everything was equally dirty, even though you couldn't see it as easy.
I read and read and read and read. When the florescent lights started making weird clicking noises, I watched them too see if anything excited would happen. Nope.
When other customers got on their phones to work or give directions or make plans I stared off into the distance because I couldn't focus on reading any more. I listened as people came and went. I head car diagnosis after car diagnosis. I think my brain shut completely off for a little while.
The way the old guy talked to people about their cars and the issues they had, reminded me of the way doctors on TV talk to patient's families. Soothing, calm and precise. No one ever seemed worried when he told them about problems their car had. No one questioned his judgment. He was goooooood.
Finally my car was done and it was my turn to stand at the counter and hear about my poor car. I never felt like he was judging me. In fact, he seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no money and actually meant it (you know how when you go to buy a car and you say "I have $3000 (or whatever) to spend on a car!" and the sales guy shows you everything just outside of that price range? This guy didn't do that).
"Ok, if we're going to do this by priority..." He pondered my cars charts for a minute. "This, then this, then this one if you can. No rush on this one but it will have to be done at some point. Here are all the prices."
He handed me a pile of papers after making me sign a couple of things and charged me exactly the amount he quoted, even though a part of me was sure the cost would surpass the quote. New brakes, a new battery and almost all my Christmas money later, I was finally on my way back home.
On Saturday (I think...It may have actually been Sunday) I headed to my moms for whatever we had planned for the day. The drive from my house to my moms house isn't something I would describe as a long, but I suppose some people would consider 20 to 30 minutes of driving a bit of a drive. My point is, it's not a long drive (to me) but when I was about 2 thirds of the way to my moms when I saw a cop in my rear view mirror. Why would this make me nervous? It's possible I have a small issue with my brake lights not working (and now that you mention it, that isn't one of the things the mechanics noticed. Like...at all). The tail lights work just fine...they just don't get any brighter when I step on the brake. In order to throw the cop of my tail (yea...I said it) I switched lanes so that he wouldn't be behind me long enough to see my lights not work and thus have no reason to pull me over. Ha. I sure fooled hi.....oh...he's changing lanes too. And now there are no cars between his car and my own. Crap. I was definitely about to get pulled over.
There are the lights.
Greeeeaaaaaat.
I pull back into the right lane and then all the way over to the curb and unlike most times in the past, he actually pulled to a stop behind me instead of going past me to chase someone else.
Now that he was getting out of the car all I could think was that I still didn't have my license. Why didn't I go to the damn DMV last week? Ugh! I rifle through my glove compartment and pull out my insurance card as I roll down the window.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
My non working brake lights? "No...I don't." I say instead.
"Your tags are expired. In September actually."
Oh no...Crap. What? Really? Damn it.
"License and registration please."
"Well, my purse was actually stolen a while back so I don't have my license right now..." I told him as I handed him my insurance card and reached into the glove compartment for the registration. I grab the registration card and look at it. Hey...that's not my name.
"Is that your name ma'am?" he was looking at the registration in my hands that I wasn't handing over because it didn't have my name on it. Who are these people? Is this even for my car? Yep...there's the make, model, year and license plate number...Ah crap. "No...I don't..."
"Do you own this car?"
"Yes. I just...this isn't... I don't understand..."
"This insurance is expired. Do you have anything with your name on it?"
"Here's my birth certificate"
He took it and looked really confused. "Do you always carry this around with you?"
"No...my purse just got stolen so I needed this to get my license but"
He sounds mean huh? He wasn't. He was smiling the whole time. Apparently my confusion was endearing. As soon as he walked away I started looking for a different insurance card. Rummage through the glove box some more, look in my purse, my wallet. Oh thank god! There's a current one! And just in time.
"Here's a current insurance card". He inspects it for a minute and hands it back "Ok, that's current. Thank you. Can you tell me your address?"
I recite my address. "Good, that's what the system says. Haha."
"Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?"
My moms...
"You should give her a call and let her know where you are. I'll be right back."
What am I, 5? Wait...does that mean I'm going to jail? Why should I call my mom if I'm just getting a ticket? Oh my god!and he walks back to his car again.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod! I'm going to jail. This certainly isn't how I pictured my day going.
I call my mom. She sounds depressed. She asks if they've asked to search my vehicle. What? Why would they do that? I gotta get off the phone with her. She's not helping and the cop will be back to take me away soon...
"I'm feelin like Santa today!" he says as he walks back to my car. I look up at him through my window and for the first time see him as a nice guy instead of an evil non entity. "Get those tags taken care of ok? There's guys like me out here and when we get bored all we have to look at are license plates." All with a huge smile.
Thank you!! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Oh my effing god THANK YOU! I had been imagining all the costs. Tags: Cha ching. Ticket for not having tags: Cha ching. License: Cha ching.
Now, I felt much lighter. I tried to wait for him to pull away first because I still wanted to avoid him noticing my non working brake lights...but he was busy on his vehicular computer so I had to leave first. Thankfully he didn't move.
I laughed the entire rest of the way to moms. When I parked in her parking lot I took a second to look for the registration card with my name on it. I found it in under 20 seconds. Har har. I was so happy with the way that had all turned out. Mom seemed really surprised that I didn't get a ticket. She always seems so surprised when things work out for the best. I guess that's what happens when you're always expecting the worst.
First thing Monday morning I headed straight to the DMV closest to my house. Expecting to be there for most of the day I brought my book with me again. I checked in with the woman by the door who gave me the forms I needed to fill out and sent me on my way. After looking into my tag situation I realized they had sent me a notice months ago. Which I filled out and sent in for new tags before they expired. There must have been a mix up because I can now clearly remember doing this. I filled out the one page for I had and then my number was called. Already things were moving quicker than I expected. I went up to the window and handed the guy my forms. I told him I needed a replacement license and tags. We start with the license. Easy peasy. Got the paperwork filled out, paid $26, and all that's left is the picture. He tries to send me to the picture area.
"My tags?"
"What about em?"
Gosh they're friendly here. I need tags man. I filled out the thing and sent in the money but I never got tags.
"Ok, I can look that up in the system." Clickyclickyclicky. "No, you're not in there. We haven't received anything from you."
Well, I have had some mail theft issues at my house...but I don't remember where I sent that from...
"I can check in DEQ's system if you went there."
I know I've been there...but was it for this car? Hmmm...
"No, DEQ has no record of you either."
Ok, no I'm really confused. How often do you have to get tags? I've had my car for 4 years...these tags expired 4 months ago...I'm sure I've done this process before.
He gives me 2 forms to take with me to DEQ. "Take these. Fill out only the yellow portions. DEQ can give you tags so you don't have to come back here."
Oh, well that seems reasonable. Ok. Thank you sir. Moving on. I put my license form in the yellow box by the picture thing and sit down to wait. I pull out my book.
"Kay....lyn?"
Boy that was quick. Put my book back, grab my coat, and my scarf. "Yes?"
Oh, nothing. You need nothing? Ok, I'll just sit back down. Thanks. This is more of how I expected this to go. I sit down, again. Number after number gets called. Name after name.
"They sure are moving fast today." the guy sitting next to me remarks. Uh...yea.
My turn again! Time for the picture. Where should I put all of this stuff I have? I'll just hold it I guess.
"Sit down please. Good. Look here. Now left a little. Chin down."
I laugh at all the instructions and of course that's when he pushes the button.
"Nope! Haha do that again. Too much smile!" I feel like he's mocking me. Now other people waiting are watching me. Oy. This is awkward.
"Ok. Sit up. Towards me. Chin down. A little more. Left. Now scoot forward. Up a little more. Chin down."
Click.
Was I really moving my chin back up that much? I have to wait for the machine to finish so I'm told to sit back down again. Awesome.
I wait and wait some more. Seems like 10 minutes go by before it's done. That's when I find out it's not even a real license. It's paper. Why did it take 10 minutes to print this if it's not even in color? Fine. Whatever. Oh god! You gave me a double chin! Damn you picture taking man! Damn you! I knew my chin was too much down. Why was he so crazy? I take pictures of myself all the time. I know how to look at a camera. Can't you just trust me man? Now I have a double chin immortalized on my license until 2013. Now, every time I get ID-ed I'm going to have to put my chin down and point to the double chin I create while point at it and shouting "See it now?! Do you see it now!?"
Ok, so that's a small exaggeration, but there really is a lot of double chin action going on there. Damn it.
Oh well. Now I have a license and I can feel better.
Time for DEQ. I head home first to look up the address (Ok, add another minute to my time spent online while on vacation) and grab a quick lunch. With my stomach happy, and the directions in my hand, I headed downtown. But when I finally made it to 6th and Taylor, where the DEQ website had told me to go, I realized I had been lied to! Ok, maybe not lied to. 6th and Taylor downtown happens to be the square. Unless they meant the other corner...where the bank is. Or that corner...where the old courthouse is. There is no DEQ here. Damn it. I text my mom out of frustration expecting her to be able to look it up online for me. Turns out she is on the bus and decides to ask bus goers. The address she sends to me is no where near downtown Portland. I look up the address on my phones web browser. Ugh. Ok, another downtown address but different than the first one I had. Drive the other direction. This is dumb. The address numbers are growing larger and larger...but I can see the freeway ahead. If I don't find the address in the next block then it simply doesn't exist. This is such BS. Ah ha! There it is...a tall high rise? But...don't they have to test my car? How will they do that if I have to get in an elevator....This can't be right. There isn't a sign for DEQ or anything. This is wrong. I know it is. I'm frustrated and it's almost 5 and I so don't want to be stuck in downtown rush hour traffic on my vacation. I go back home, promising myself I'll find the real DEQ tomorrow.
In the morning, after showering and eating, I get back on DEQ's website. This time, I call their main line. I tell them I need tags and want to make sure I'm going to a DEQ that can give me tags so I don't have to all the way back to the DMV today. I confirm the address before getting off the phone...and it's in NE Portland. The address my mom had gotten on the bus. That was simply too far for me to make it before it closed. This address isn't on their website and doesn't pop up when you go to Google. Ugh. Go figure.
I am determined to be a legal driver today damn it. I head to DEQ, in NE this time. It's way out, surrounded by nothing. I thought I was at the wrong place at first. Finally, my car and I are in line waiting for our turn. The light turns green for my lane and I pull forward. The guy is nice and makes everything seem so simple. I get out of my car so he can do his thing.
"Ok, you're all set. That'll be $145"
Say what?! Uh... I...wow....
"$21 for DEQ and the rest is for the tags."
Right. Yea. Of course... Pull my wallet out and take out the last of the cash I have. I'm left with $18. Awesometastic.
Whatever. I got tags! Yay!
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