No, I still don't have a legal Rhode Island license plate. Wait, allow me to clarify, I don't even have an illegal Rhode Island license plate. What I'm sporting are a matching pair of illegal New Hampshire plates.
Yepper-- three months shy of a year in residency et voila.
Is this not a simple matter of showing up to the DMV with my teeth brushed? Do I not live in a first-world country of enlightened beings? Was King Kong not a modern retelling of Beauty & the Beast (without any of the, you know, character development)? If I begin down a path of absurd questions won't I find myself tumbling head over feet into a briar patch?
:: sigh ::
So the SECOND time I went to the DMV to get a registered license she told me I had to have my VIN verified. The VIN. Of my car. That was in view-- 15 feet from her. She could walk out and read it her damn self. But no.
I must go to a police station to have them verify it.
me: which police station?
her: oh any one near you.
Total lie. I know this now as this afternoon instead of swanning down a pretty lane full of blossoming white branches creating a veritable canopy of beauty in the late afternoon sunlight, I was face-to-face with a cop in a gravel parking lot.
According to my photographic memory the dialogue went precisely like this:
POLICEMAN: You have to go to the VIN station to get that verified.
me: But you are a cop. This is my car. Right here.
POLICEMAN: yeah, there's only one VIN registration police station in Providence. Do you know where the dark side of the moon is?
POLICEMAN: no? do you know where the black hole of jupiter's junior planet cluster is?
me: :: slamming head on dashboard ::
POLICEMAN: okay, so you take that road, go four rights, about 10 miles, turn your car around on two wheels, head up the dark side of the moon and when you come to the third planet cluster go left. It's about a mile from there.
me: :: getting back into my car :: Fine.
POLICEMAN: :: looking at his watch :: oh, but it's closed now.
No, seriously -- aieeieieiieieieieieieiieieieieieiie!
How big is that tree above? Look closely, that is Daisy at the base on the left and Henry on the right . .
Yeah, I know, first-world problems for sure-- but thanks for letting me vent.
Daisy: no problem, mamacita! life is grand-- you got us and hey, when bureaucracy gets you down, do what I do . . works like a charm.