Just before I went off to Mendocino, my mom’s mechanic found a car for me: a 1998 Toyota Avalon. It’s older than my Saturn, and has almost as many miles, but it’s a Toyota and has had a new (Toyota) engine put into to it a couple of years ago.
By the time I got home from Camp, it was a done deal, and all I had to do was go get it. Seems simple enough. I had Friday night and almost all of Saturday free, and quickly arranged a dinner date with Deb and transferred my car insurance. I’d pick up the car on Saturday, register it on Monday, get it inspected on Tuesday, drive to Boston on Wednesday. What could go wrong?
Oh nothing but a 12” x 6” piece of pressed aluminum, i.e., the license plate.
Mom’s mechanic, through whom the car was found, in his fastidiousness removed the plates (or tags, as they’re called in the business), to repaint the bumpers, and assuming I no longer needed them, returned them to the previous owner so they could be returned to the state. Disaster.
In the state of Pennsylvania, when you are registering and transferring the title of an out-of-state vehicle, the car must be physically present so the VIN and odometer reading can be confirmed. This meant that registering the car ahead of time and bringing a plate up with me was right out.
Next course of action - finding a title agent in NYC to issue me temporary in-transit tags. No dice. No agency could be found that was open on Saturday. Equally successful was my attempt to contact the NY DMV to ask about in-transit tags from them. Their lines were always busy - not even the possibility of eternal hold.
It was mom’s mechanic who took decisive action. He decided he would drive the car down, with his bother following to bring him back up to New York. But with what tags? I shouldn’t ask such questions. When was he coming? He was leaving NYC at 3 or 3:30 AM and would get to me around 5:30 AM.
And so it was. No one stopped the caravan, and the car was safely stowed in George and Paul’s driveway, nose out, so no one would think to look for the now missing tags.
Next step - to drive to AAA to register the car, get a plate, and get legal without getting pulled over for having no tag on my way there. And with heart in mouth and great adherence to all traffic signs and signals, I made it. And sure enough, an hour later, the title was transferred, the registration applied for, and a temporary registration issued, the address changed on my driver’s license, and most importantly, a license plate distributed and immediately placed on my car.
Today I can’t tell whether I’m fonder of and more grateful for the car and the return of my freedom, or the precious and much longed for license plate.
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