1997 Geo

I came home last Thursday is a very good mood. I had just given some pretty cool socks to my best bud, and my man is going to be the cutest German is all the world, but waiting for me on my desk was a little piece of paper that broke my happy bubble. It was a certified letter from the SCPD. My heart did a little flip and I started freaking out (just ask anyone who talked to me or saw me for those few days). There was nothing I could do about it until Friday morning. So, I spent a sleepless night thinking I was being called into court or sued for something. It was awful. (sometimes working with juvenile delinquents is rough on the sleeping.) The next morning I went to the post office. With the letter hot in hand I walked outside to discover... My little 1997 geo was about to be towed and I had ten days to do something about it. Ack!!! I cooled off a little, because, what do I care if they tow a car I don't own anymore? But then, after talking to another friend of mine, I discovered they would charge me for the towing of the car. And I was right back to flipping out.

I called into work and told them I was going to be late, and went right over to the DMV. As I sat and thought about why I should no longer trust people who I have just met, I also figured out something... I hate car salesmen!!! So I walked up to the lady at the DMV (After an astonishingly short amount of time, only half an hour)and informed her I had made a mistake and needed help. They lady asked if I had filled out a transfer of liability form. I said: No, what's that? She gave me a little half sheet of paper to fill out that would absolve me of all payments. Ya! Unfortunately the form needed the address of the guy I sold it to. SO I drove to work feeling a bit better. Once at work I looked him up. He didn't have a listed address. (and I wouldn't either if I was a car salesman.) So I took my sleuthing skills onto the private lookup sites. And for a mere 13 dollars, I now know everything about him, from his criminal history to the last several places he has lived. Ha!

Then I email the bastard. And told him I was displeased and that I was faxing him the letter. Did I mention I did this all to his work since I didn't get his home stuff? And we all know how many people see a fax when it comes through the office... Anyway he called me a little later that day and said: Oh, I'm so mad at my daughter for not changing the title... I said: Really, I don't care. I switched the title myself today. It's your problem now.

One interesting thing he did tell me though... he said his daughter crashed the car two weeks after getting it... I wonder if the air bags deployed. I give it about a 75/25 chance of not going off. The world will never know.