Good morning, fine folks!
So about two years ago, I took some really, really bad advice, that turned out to be illegal, from a friend, who incidentally isn’t a friend anymore…
So, I was making my move from Georgia to Florida official. I got my licence changed over ($56 ouch). Part of that was the Florida DMV cut the corner off of my Georgia drivers license to invalidate it.
Next, to get my car insurance changed over to Florida insurance — My premiums went up a total of $60, because people in Florida can’t drive and I have to pay for it.
Then, was to get my registration changed over.
I had my shiny new car title from where I just paid off my car (very proud). Now, in Georgia to transfer ownership, one just needs to sign off on the title. And bam! Go to the DMV and make it official.
Not in Florida.
Nothing is simple in Florida.
My Nana cosigned my car, so her name was on the title too. Either she had to be there in person or there needed to be a bill of sale and transfer documents, even though her signature on the title, I thought, would suffice.
Also, I wasn’t sure how to exactly fill out my car title, so I left it blank and figured the DMV would tell me how to do it so I didn’t completely fuck it up and void my title.
So, I’m at the DMV — this lady, who was extremely surly and rude, proceeds to tell me I can’t fill out my car title in front of her and then draws large circles on my car title, indicating where I need to fill out information, then writes on the side “bring in bill of sale.”
Bitch just voided my car title.
And then told me it was going to be, not the $100ish I expected from an incorrect website, but like $400.
Sigh… so then I had to request a new car title from Georgia. But in the mean time, I had out of state expired tags.
I called the bad advice friend sobbing, who instructed me to do this:
I called my boss (because I had to do this on my lunch break) and told her I had to drive to Georgia.
I made the trip, went to the DMV in the town where I used to live — an hour and a half away — and told them I lost my Georgia drivers license, and the replacement was free. Then go over to the tag office and get a new Georgia sticker for my tag.
And that’s what I did.
Months and months later, after said friend and I parted company, my nana gets a letter talking about how my Georgia registration is suspended because I don’t have insurance.
Fuck. Mother fucker. Son of a bitch.
I do have insurance! Florida insurance!
So, I get word back from the tag office in Georgia that I need a lien release to get my title.
I had to call my loan company who told me to call this other company, and $45 dollars later I have a lien release.
Then it’s another fee to get my title from Georgia.
Then $400 to get my tags — and I’m living on ramen right now….
So…. I’ve been driving around on suspended/expired out of state tags.
Which is illegal. And I don’t recommend it to anyone.
Yesterday, I had a Florida Highway Patrol (FHP — state highway police) pull up behind me as I was turning left. I’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding cops, using the always useful right hand turn, urge to randomly pull into a parking lot, etc… Thinking I was going to be pulled over, my guts clenched in anxiety and terror as I gripped the wheel thinking any time now, I’m going to get the blue light special. He’s going to see my shame of my wrong colored sticker on my car and give me a lecture, a $1000000000000 ticket, and throw me in jail where I’m going to live Orange is the New Black for my goddamn expired tags.
The green arrow pops up. And I turn, and he turns. I swiftly pull a right into a shopping center parking lot, fully expecting him to follow and see the impending blue lights.
But he just goes on.
I laugh, tears pouring out of my eyes, in my car shouting “There is a God and God loves me.”
This morning, on the way to work, encountered eight different types of law enforcement — three city police, three sheriff (one a motorcycle), and two FHP. Now, I work in a nicer area of town and usually don’t see that many police in the area.
But damn. Said God who loves me, is definitely telling me to get my shit together.
Next month, I’m going to have three paychecks. And I’m going to get my registration right.
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