Went back to the SOS on the alotted day to get my new plate. First time i went, the computers were down. So, i left, and dreamed about having to come back later, pay the late fee, and taking it as far as the Supreme Court to combat the ridiculous fees. It isn't only a lottery ticket that gives one his dreams. Came back some hours later, and had to wait in "the grey box".
The grey box, the ominous name of a movie that doesn't yet exist, refers to a patch of carpeting on the floor. The carpet is completely blue (probably saddened by the long wait) except for two (or three) grey squares (not the aging college nerds). One is more of a rectangle, for the photographee, the other is the place to wait. Sounds silly, works great.
When i got to the box, there was someone else there. He was holding _his_ pink slip atop all else, and casually looked over to make sure that i had mine. One of those cases where i (thought i) knew what he was thinking. I found it amusing. Like this journal entry which is also a musing. (Then again, the opposite is true as well.)
The other man had his turn, and though i am not inclined towards colored eggs, i did wait in the box. And not for long. Soon it was my turn, and i was called by the same lady that gave me the pink slip.
After she went through and charged the correct price, i felt somewhat empty not being able to fight for it. But, this worked well. She also said "Happy Birthday". I thanked her, and witheld my comment that i honor my birthday as 27 Adar I, which is within three weeks, but not quite today. Then, i sked her if she said "Happy Birthday" alot, and asked if she felt happy about that. That was a poorly executed line, which i realized after she said that she hoped the other people felt happy (and she said that as if she was defending herself). So, i explained that i meant that she has a happy job, being able to wish people happy birthday all the time. Oh well, live and learn. I still need much practice extraverting. Finally, i asked her if i could put the old plate in the front of the car, she replied that she thought so, and verified it with a co-worker.
The bolts were rusted, so i bought new ones. The front of the car had holes, but they were too far apart to hold a plates, and too large for the screws. Oh well. My dreams of being stopped at the border for the confusing situation were dashed. Eh.