I Got a Shiney New Car!
OK, that's sort of a small lie. The car is new to me. An '88 Camry LE (Toyota). And I got it for a song. OK, that was a lie too. Cash, but only a little as the vehicle just had a 16th birthday. I love the car. We already have a minivan (or as I like to refer to it, 'the chick magnet') and a defunct Firebird, so to fill the we really need two cars gap, I bought the Camry.
A few vehicles ago I bought, brand new, an '86 Corolla LE, and by far it is the best car (IMO) ever produced. Moved the family across the country twice. A truly great car. Then one night it was stolen and we were lucky enough to recover it about three hours later, but that was because the joyriders had broken the transmission after getting rid of the kids car seats and Big Wheels that were in the trunk. So anyway, we couldn't trust the car anymore after that, little things kept going wrong and it was obvious that we should get rid of it. So we did.
That being said, I've been looking for over a year now for one ('86 Corolla LE or something similar) to be the second car and *PRESTO* finally the Camry came along.
In truth this post was supposed to be about my trip to the Connecticut Department of Motor Vehicles. Why? Because DMV stories are always horror stories. Except today. I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted to regale you all with stories of hours of too many different and probably wrong lines filled with people whose sole ambition is to be privileged enough to be forever in line at the DMV. I hurt so much that I'm unable to wax philosophic about the people who work at the DMV with their bad hair styles and equally poor fashion sense.
But not today. I arrived at 9 AM with sleeping bag and a few days worth of clothing and rations, fully prepared to do battle with never-ending long lines, bitter employees and a general lack of deodorant in the crowd. Such was not the case. I strolled into the building (I'm pretty sure it was the first time since the '80's)and was greeted by roped areas where lines could form if there were people around, elevator music playing over the muzak, a small concession stand, where one could purchase coffee, pastry, etc. But nobody was in line because there was no one to be in line. I was the sole customer at 9AM on a Thursday where they had already been open for two hours!
There is a comical part. You have to 'Take A Number'in order to be waited on. So they had me take a number and I was handed ticket #27 in the initial processing line, and the overhead display read 'serving #26', so I felt pretty confident I was gonna get some quick service. And I did. It was a very Seinfeld moment but I moved over to the official processing line and one of the clerks called out, "27". so I stepped up. The clerk took my number, did my paperwork, gave me my new plates, and she was very pleasant the whole time. I venture to guess, start to finish my trip to the Connecticut DMV, once the bane of any motorist who wanted to drive legally in Connecticut, was about, give or take a minute, 6 minutes. BOOWAH!
A few vehicles ago I bought, brand new, an '86 Corolla LE, and by far it is the best car (IMO) ever produced. Moved the family across the country twice. A truly great car. Then one night it was stolen and we were lucky enough to recover it about three hours later, but that was because the joyriders had broken the transmission after getting rid of the kids car seats and Big Wheels that were in the trunk. So anyway, we couldn't trust the car anymore after that, little things kept going wrong and it was obvious that we should get rid of it. So we did.
That being said, I've been looking for over a year now for one ('86 Corolla LE or something similar) to be the second car and *PRESTO* finally the Camry came along.
In truth this post was supposed to be about my trip to the Connecticut Department of Motor Vehicles. Why? Because DMV stories are always horror stories. Except today. I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted to regale you all with stories of hours of too many different and probably wrong lines filled with people whose sole ambition is to be privileged enough to be forever in line at the DMV. I hurt so much that I'm unable to wax philosophic about the people who work at the DMV with their bad hair styles and equally poor fashion sense.
But not today. I arrived at 9 AM with sleeping bag and a few days worth of clothing and rations, fully prepared to do battle with never-ending long lines, bitter employees and a general lack of deodorant in the crowd. Such was not the case. I strolled into the building (I'm pretty sure it was the first time since the '80's)and was greeted by roped areas where lines could form if there were people around, elevator music playing over the muzak, a small concession stand, where one could purchase coffee, pastry, etc. But nobody was in line because there was no one to be in line. I was the sole customer at 9AM on a Thursday where they had already been open for two hours!
There is a comical part. You have to 'Take A Number'in order to be waited on. So they had me take a number and I was handed ticket #27 in the initial processing line, and the overhead display read 'serving #26', so I felt pretty confident I was gonna get some quick service. And I did. It was a very Seinfeld moment but I moved over to the official processing line and one of the clerks called out, "27". so I stepped up. The clerk took my number, did my paperwork, gave me my new plates, and she was very pleasant the whole time. I venture to guess, start to finish my trip to the Connecticut DMV, once the bane of any motorist who wanted to drive legally in Connecticut, was about, give or take a minute, 6 minutes. BOOWAH!
posted by Rick | Monday, September 13, 2004
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home