Cops and Car Catastrophes

Exactly one week from today Daniel and I will have been married for two months. I'm probably supposed to follow that sentence with a statement about how crazy it is or about how I can't believe it, but neither of those is true. It's not crazy, and I can believe it. It feels just about right. What is crazy, however, is that it took us nearly two months to finally wade through our post-wedding "to do" list--and we're still not completely finished.

First I had to change my name, which involved getting official copies of our marriage license (which we had to wait for my Mom to bring to Massachusetts for us), waiting forever at the Social Security card office, and standing in line at the RMV. When my new driver's license arrived in the mail, we were finally able to start the process of registering my car in Massachusetts. But first, of course, we had to get it insured.

Surprisingly, getting our two cars insured wasn't a hassle at all. It was actually a fairly pleasant experience, so I mistakenly assumed the worst was over and that we were home free. One quick trip to the RMV and my car would be an official east coaster, like me. I was so very, very wrong.

On Friday, Daniel got stuck in awful traffic taking a different route home so he could meet me at the RMV. He finally got there, and we waited for about an hour and a half before they called our number. We approached the desk eagerly (Yay, it's finally our turn!), only to be quite rudely informed that we had the wrong form and would have to come back. Of course, it was less than an hour before closing time on Friday, so we would have to wait until Monday. At least the lady gave us a "no wait" slip.

On Monday I went to the RMV again and waited for someone to be available. I approached the desk (Yay, this time it will work!) to find that the now correct form was filled out incorrectly. Apparently I wasn't allowed to handwrite Daniel's name in as co-owner of the car; the insurance company had to type it in. So with another "no wait" slip in hand and without new plates, I left fairly peeved. At home I contacted our insurance agent, got the form fixed, and steeled myself for yet another trip to the RMV the next day.

On Tuesday I went back one last time and finally left victorious, new registration and Massachusetts plates in hand (Yay, it's finally done!). I drove my California-plated car for the last time, and immediately went home to change my plates. The front one went on fine, but the back plate had issues. I couldn't get it off. I stripped the rusted screw trying to loosen it with a screwdriver and then, in a daze of stubborn frustration, proceeded to try to remove it with pliers, a wrench, and eventually my bare hands. All bad ideas. I then undid the lining of my trunk to go at it from the back side, but all I got was a lot of cuts on my hands. After about 45 minutes, I gave up and waited for Daniel to come home. We had to make a trip to Home Depot for new screws, but by the end of it all I had Massachusetts plates. *Sigh*

There was only one more item on the car's "to do" list--the Massachusetts Vehicle Check. On Wednesday Daniel had a half day at work, so he kindly offered to go with me to get the car inspected. We drove to a place just off of Trapelo Road in Belmont, and as we were stopped just a few feet from the turn-in to the station, we got slammed into from the back. Of course. The car in front of us had stopped to let some pedestrians cross, and naturally we had stopped too. The car behind us, however, did not stop.

Long story short, Daniel called the police to file a report, and we were stunned to find that while the Buick that hit us was a crumpled mess and had to be towed, we got to drive our Toyota away with only minor cosmetic damage. Of course, the station we were going to wasn't doing inspections that day, so we ended up turning around and heading right back to a station that was less than a mile from our own apartment. Figures, right? On the bright side, I passed my inspection. My car is done.

While we're aware that we're very blessed that neither we nor the car suffered much damage, we can't help but see the irony and amusement in all of this (in fact, I inconsiderately snickered as the cops filled out our accident report... I just couldn't help it by that point). So much hassle just to make my car an official Massachusetts resident! I suspect it was fighting us all along. It's hard to let go of California.

Add to all of the above another call to the cops--this time on Tuesday night to warn them about an angry man outside our window saying, "I can't wait to kill" in a disturbingly Gollum-like voice--and you have quite an exciting week for the Jibsons.