License and Registration

Part of my job, besides doing what my boss tells me to do, is to do whatever any other bosses in the building tell me to do.  So today, because a visiting professor had just arrived in town for the College of Education's annual conference on indigenous languages and their systematic repression, my job was to escort said professor to various buildings across campus to complete his check in to the university.

I met Waldo at around nine in the morning, and with the keys to the car loaned to me by one of the administrators of the conference, we set off for the Office of International Affairs.

Now, there are actually two Offices of International Affairs, which I found out when I was escorting Waldo's wife (who arrived last week) along the same journey.  The first one, which Waldo's wife and I had the pleasure of visiting, was the one they send you to so the people there can tell you that you need to go to the second one.  The first is for international students, the second is for international scholars.

Now, while I was happy to have a car to borrow, instead of having to walk long distances and ride the Cat Tran for what short distances we could, the car was, shall we say it, full of character.  The owner informed me that the driver's door had to be opened from the inside, which made for interesting situations while Waldo was already seated and ready to go.  I also discovered upon making my first turn that the frictional coefficient between the steering wheel cover and the steering wheel itself was next to nothing.  Unless you had a firm grip, you would find yourself going a different direction than the position of your hands would lead you to believe.

I figured out how to manage all this, and we were at the last stop sign before our destination before we knew it.  So was a police officer, not that that really bothered me.  I'm not a felon, and I had been maintaining a fairly conservative speed the entire way.  I usually do when I'm in an unfamiliar vehicle.  So, after checking both ways and progressing through the intersection, I spotted the office, and initiated a u-turn so as to park on the same side of the street as our destination.

Apparently u-turns in residential areas are illegal.  And apparently, when you perform them in front of police officers, they tend to notice.  My head was bent in shame over my wallet as I pulled out my license to show the officer, as the officer pulled up behind me with his lights flashing, all while Waldo was innocently seated in the passenger seat.

I fumbled to find the window button as the officer walked up to the car and asked "License and registration, please?"

I then fumbled to open the glove compartment, which I immediately discovered to be stuffed and overflowing with millions of extraneous pieces of paper, of which I had no idea were the ones I really needed right then.  I had a bit of extra time as the officer walked back to the patrol car to check my license and record, and ensure I wasn't a felon.  By the time he had returned, the best I had done was come up with an internet print out of a temporary insurance card.

But it was my lucky day, and I got a warning.  I was relieved, but still decently humiliated that this whole incident happened with Waldo in the car.  But Waldo was a good sport.  Visiting from New Zealand, the guy was a fluent speaker of New Zealand's native language, was fairly elderly, and had ear and nose hair my dad would be proud of.  He didn't seem to mind that his escort had just been pulled over for not being competent enough to drive a motor vehicle in a legal fashion.

After all this, we finally went into the office, where they told us the person we needed to see was busy, and we would just have to wait until she wasn't busy, sometime after one o' clock.  Great.  Realizing I could have potentially avoided being pulled over, I returned Waldo to the College of Education.

I had a couple less stressful hours before one o' clock rolled around.  I enjoyed a salad from the student union on the university's dime, I watched the Uruguay/South Africa soccer game, which our office receives courtesy of Telemundo, and I drank a refreshing cup of iced joe.

So, one o' clock rolled around, and Waldo and I headed back out to the car for round two, which I had conveniently arranged to park in the service lot adjacent to the building.  I went to unlock the passenger door for Waldo, and he went to sit in the driver's seat.  Silly Waldo, everything is backwards here for him (they drive on the wrong side of the road in New Zealand).  We laughed.

I opened the driver's side passenger door and reached forward to open the driver's door, and got in.  I inserted the key into its proper receptacle and turned it.  The car did not turn over.  I didn't laugh.

The rest of the day went pretty much like this.  I would tell more, but this has been my most monumental post yet, and you've already been kind enough to read thus far.  I guess this post might serve to make up for the days I've missed while keeping busy with work, exercise, and moving into the new place.  I haven't had too much time to take pictures, but those I did take follow below.

Thanks for reading.