So yesterday I drive from my place in the city (Chicago) out to where my band has its Thursday night practices (a church in Elmhurst). I'm early, so I decide to go to my usual supper venue, a Subway built into a gas station in Villa Park.
I pull into the parking lot and park next to an immaculate yellow Corvette convertible. It's a nice day out, the top is down and that car is practically glowing. I open my door to get out, and even though I don't even come close to touching the car, my door comes within two feet which I guess is in range, as the alarm goes off. I give a slight jump from being startled, but then carry on like it's no big deal. Through the windows of the building I can see two guys watching, one of them clicks his remote and silences the alarm.
I walk inside and immediately in front of me there is a cute girl sitting down, staring at me with a big smile. I guess she saw what happened so I smile back and proceed to the Subway lineup. As I came in I heard one of the guys (the owner) say he was going to move the 'Vette, as he walks past he says "How's it going?" and I respond in kind. He moves the 'Vette one space over.
I order my food (have you tried the Subway pizzas? Quite tasty) and decide since I have time to kill I'll eat there. So I pay and get a tray and set it down at a table in the corner. Then I realize I've left my drink in the car so I walk to the front door. As I walk past the two guys I hear one of them say, "Would you like to sell that car?"
For a split second I thought this was some weird joke I didn't get and that they meant the 'Vette, but then I saw they were serious and meant my Accord. "The Honda?" I say "Sure, after the 4th (of July)." This answer throws them a bit and I explain I need it that day. "Oh, you heading back to school after the 4th?" "Nope, I'm all done school." "Oh, well congratulations! Good for you." At this point I'm beginning to wonder how young they think I am.
We chat a bit more about the car: "What year is it?" (96) "How many miles?" (105k) "How much do you want?" ($1,500 - it's in obvious need of bodywork) "Not bad." We trade names and phone numbers. I go on to explain to Frank (after being asked) that I don't have the title. Frank gives me the toll-free number for the IL Sec. of State in Springfield and advises me to call them tomorrow (today, more on this later). Then he says to me, "You know what? I noticed this earlier, but you have really green eyes - they're like, olive green! Maybe it's the light or the reflection on your shirt (I was wearing a green golf shirt) but man, they are olive!"
I'm a little weirded out, I mumble something about that's why I wear this shirt, and then he says, "Look at that girl! Her eyes are blue like her shirt too!" This is the cute girl that smiled at me when I came in. She's wearing some kind of sleeveless vest-looking top, and looks like she just came from softball or soccer practice or something. She looks at me and smiles, and I point out to her that her eyes and top do indeed go well together. She does a little "Aw, shucks" motion with her hand and bats her eyelids, and goes on smiling. Frank's friend ('Vette owner) says "Are you trying to hook them up or something?" Frank says, "Sure, why don't you go on, sit with her?" I say, "Okay, I'm eating here, just let me go to my car and get my drink."
I walk out, grab one of my bottles of Gatorade RAIN (Berry flavor) and walk back inside, and as I pass the guys to go to my table, they say "By the way, she's sixteen - is that okay?"
"Uhhh....I'm twenty-eight."
She couldn't even look at me the rest of the time there.
Anyways, I called Springfield a little while ago, give the lady my VIN, and we determine that my title has my middle name as my first name, my first name as my last name, and my last name's initial as my middle initial (in other words, my initials are SAM but show on the title as AMS). Plus my apartment number isn't on their so I never got it in the mail. She mentions something about a $68 fee that's needed to apply for a corrected title. I say this would be the second time for this and ask if there's any way to waive it, since 'they' (the people at the DMV on Elston Ave.) obviously screwed it up. She says applicants are who fill these things out, but I explain to her that I'm positive I didn't screw up my own name or address (The fact that my apt. number wasn't on it sounds like somebody copied my info off my driver's license, on which I was advised not to put my apt. number). She checks the microfilm and it appears that I filled out the application correctly. So anyway once I get my title in the mail I'm told I can send it with a memo to Sec. of State Quality Control explaining the errors, and if it's a state error, no fee.
Cliffs:
Read and enjoy, it's good for you.
UPDATE 7/27/07: Last night I arrived at the same Subway again and saw a little scooter parked in the handicapped spot. Sitting near it on the edge of the walkway was the Corvette driver from last time, this time with another friend.
As I got out of the car and walked toward the door he asked me, "You still want to sell that car?" I explained that at the time I said yes it was because I was unemployed and needed the money, but I've since started a new job two weeks ago at which having a car is essential (I may need to go to a client site at a moment's notice).
He nodded understandingly, then asked if I ever got the DMV. I explained to him all of the details above and that I was still waiting for it to arrive in the mail. He advised me to keep on it since it's been at least a month. Then his friend said, "Nah man, just head to the Secretary of State's office and fill it out again."
Corvette Driver was silent a moment, then turned to him and said, "What, you think Frankie doesn't know?" (Frank was his friend from our first meeting who gave me the IDOT's number.)
His friend calmly sputtered, "Well, he could just go again, and fill it-"
"No man. Hey- Frankie knows" then he turned to me, "Anyway, you have a good one."
So I went inside, ordered my food and walked out. At this point I should mention that up until now he and his friends had only seen the 'good' side of my car (with the least amount of body damage). As I backed out and turned to show the other side of it while I drove away, I watched his face with amusement as his eyes grew wider at the sight of my bashed in front right fender and my rear-ended bumper.
What's he gonna tell Frankie? And Frankie's got my number, what's he gonna tell me?
I pull into the parking lot and park next to an immaculate yellow Corvette convertible. It's a nice day out, the top is down and that car is practically glowing. I open my door to get out, and even though I don't even come close to touching the car, my door comes within two feet which I guess is in range, as the alarm goes off. I give a slight jump from being startled, but then carry on like it's no big deal. Through the windows of the building I can see two guys watching, one of them clicks his remote and silences the alarm.
I walk inside and immediately in front of me there is a cute girl sitting down, staring at me with a big smile. I guess she saw what happened so I smile back and proceed to the Subway lineup. As I came in I heard one of the guys (the owner) say he was going to move the 'Vette, as he walks past he says "How's it going?" and I respond in kind. He moves the 'Vette one space over.
I order my food (have you tried the Subway pizzas? Quite tasty) and decide since I have time to kill I'll eat there. So I pay and get a tray and set it down at a table in the corner. Then I realize I've left my drink in the car so I walk to the front door. As I walk past the two guys I hear one of them say, "Would you like to sell that car?"
For a split second I thought this was some weird joke I didn't get and that they meant the 'Vette, but then I saw they were serious and meant my Accord. "The Honda?" I say "Sure, after the 4th (of July)." This answer throws them a bit and I explain I need it that day. "Oh, you heading back to school after the 4th?" "Nope, I'm all done school." "Oh, well congratulations! Good for you." At this point I'm beginning to wonder how young they think I am.
We chat a bit more about the car: "What year is it?" (96) "How many miles?" (105k) "How much do you want?" ($1,500 - it's in obvious need of bodywork) "Not bad." We trade names and phone numbers. I go on to explain to Frank (after being asked) that I don't have the title. Frank gives me the toll-free number for the IL Sec. of State in Springfield and advises me to call them tomorrow (today, more on this later). Then he says to me, "You know what? I noticed this earlier, but you have really green eyes - they're like, olive green! Maybe it's the light or the reflection on your shirt (I was wearing a green golf shirt) but man, they are olive!"
I'm a little weirded out, I mumble something about that's why I wear this shirt, and then he says, "Look at that girl! Her eyes are blue like her shirt too!" This is the cute girl that smiled at me when I came in. She's wearing some kind of sleeveless vest-looking top, and looks like she just came from softball or soccer practice or something. She looks at me and smiles, and I point out to her that her eyes and top do indeed go well together. She does a little "Aw, shucks" motion with her hand and bats her eyelids, and goes on smiling. Frank's friend ('Vette owner) says "Are you trying to hook them up or something?" Frank says, "Sure, why don't you go on, sit with her?" I say, "Okay, I'm eating here, just let me go to my car and get my drink."
I walk out, grab one of my bottles of Gatorade RAIN (Berry flavor) and walk back inside, and as I pass the guys to go to my table, they say "By the way, she's sixteen - is that okay?"
"Uhhh....I'm twenty-eight."
She couldn't even look at me the rest of the time there.
Anyways, I called Springfield a little while ago, give the lady my VIN, and we determine that my title has my middle name as my first name, my first name as my last name, and my last name's initial as my middle initial (in other words, my initials are SAM but show on the title as AMS). Plus my apartment number isn't on their so I never got it in the mail. She mentions something about a $68 fee that's needed to apply for a corrected title. I say this would be the second time for this and ask if there's any way to waive it, since 'they' (the people at the DMV on Elston Ave.) obviously screwed it up. She says applicants are who fill these things out, but I explain to her that I'm positive I didn't screw up my own name or address (The fact that my apt. number wasn't on it sounds like somebody copied my info off my driver's license, on which I was advised not to put my apt. number). She checks the microfilm and it appears that I filled out the application correctly. So anyway once I get my title in the mail I'm told I can send it with a memo to Sec. of State Quality Control explaining the errors, and if it's a state error, no fee.
Cliffs:
Read and enjoy, it's good for you.
UPDATE 7/27/07: Last night I arrived at the same Subway again and saw a little scooter parked in the handicapped spot. Sitting near it on the edge of the walkway was the Corvette driver from last time, this time with another friend.
As I got out of the car and walked toward the door he asked me, "You still want to sell that car?" I explained that at the time I said yes it was because I was unemployed and needed the money, but I've since started a new job two weeks ago at which having a car is essential (I may need to go to a client site at a moment's notice).
He nodded understandingly, then asked if I ever got the DMV. I explained to him all of the details above and that I was still waiting for it to arrive in the mail. He advised me to keep on it since it's been at least a month. Then his friend said, "Nah man, just head to the Secretary of State's office and fill it out again."
Corvette Driver was silent a moment, then turned to him and said, "What, you think Frankie doesn't know?" (Frank was his friend from our first meeting who gave me the IDOT's number.)
His friend calmly sputtered, "Well, he could just go again, and fill it-"
"No man. Hey- Frankie knows" then he turned to me, "Anyway, you have a good one."
So I went inside, ordered my food and walked out. At this point I should mention that up until now he and his friends had only seen the 'good' side of my car (with the least amount of body damage). As I backed out and turned to show the other side of it while I drove away, I watched his face with amusement as his eyes grew wider at the sight of my bashed in front right fender and my rear-ended bumper.
What's he gonna tell Frankie? And Frankie's got my number, what's he gonna tell me?
Facebook
Twitter