A few months before we started this blog, I sold my car. The decision was pretty easy and was brought upon by a few factors:
1. Racked up about $200 in parking tickets in about three months. One fine summer day last year I got two tickets at the same time. When I paid them for some reason the city of Chicago website didn’t process it, but the money came out of our bank account anyway. That was a real treat, trying to prove that I paid tickets with no documentation other than the charges on my bank statement. They ended up only crediting me for one ticket. Note to all: always print out the payment confirmation!
2. Insurance. When I was younger I got into two minor accidents. Premiums suck.
3. Gas. Expensive. Even more so today.
4. My employer pays for our pubic transportation. I love you, CTA.
5. Driving around and around the block looking for parking spaces. I felt like I had Alzheimer’s going around the same damn blocks over and over and over.
When I sold my car, I was pretty content with taking public transportation everywhere, and using Her car whenever I needed it.
Except for her license plate. In the interest of anonymity, let’s say it was “FLUFFY 8.”
Every time I would drive her car, I felt a little embarrassed. A little emasculated. A little humiliated. Seriously, I couldn’t drive a car with such a feminine license plate. Her car might was well could of had a furry pink steering wheel cover. Ick.
After much complaining by me, we made a deal. We could get a new license plate at the time the registration sticker expired. I even offered to pay, from my own money, for all of the expenses of getting a new plate, $26 for a new plate and $78 for registration renewal, a total of $104. When we actually renewed it, for some reason we were only charged $26. Someone along the way screwed up, but we weren’t going to correct them.
$26 dollars for a random number plate. I think that’s a cheap price for a little dignity.