MA has not failed to hit below the belt where the car is concerned. We spent all that time in line at the RMV, then when we took our registration to the mechanic, he pointed out that the written car color didn’t match the actual color of our car. He gave us a conditional inspection, letting us know that we had to get that corrected. A tedious amount of time on hold provided John with the information that we would have to pay another $25 and submit a form. No joke—they are going to charge us $25 for a minor color change that they messed up. This is a lesson to us to triple check every little box on even the most mundane form we sign our names to.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, Thursday is street-cleaning day. Although we tried our best to read and navigate the signs carefully, we missed a detail and yes, we got a ticket. They say that owning a car in Boston is expensive. They aren’t kidding, though the reasons have not been the ones I would have expected.
Frustration with parking aside, the city does have its fair share of amusements along the road. My favorite today was a truck labeled “The Gentle Giant: 800-Giant-Men.” I’ll let you imagine for yourself what the company actually does.
On a tangential note, John decided that my school bag is a clown car. For one thing, it weighs about as much as a small vehicle. (One single coursepack is about two reams of paper.) More to the point, just when we think it will burst if I try to stuff anymore into it, it gives way to let me squeeze that last book in. Hooray for sturdy bags! I think…