It’s been awhile since I wrote about my life (who am I kidding?). It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything story-like. The following post is a poor excuse (lol).
The story started a few months ago after I had my car accident. I went to the workshop to claim insurance for the accident, and realized that my car’s registration card wasn’t updated with my current engine’s serial number. So we passed the card to a mechanic who gave it to his runner to do the job. But before the number was changed, our insurance guy told us that it wasn’t necessary because the engine was still the same cc etc, so it wasn’t a big deal. So we managed to get the insurance crap done without any hassle. We forgot all about our card.
Fast forward to last week. My car’s road tax and insurance were expiring in a week (26th of March to be exact) and the car’s registration card was nowhere to be found. After ransacking the whole house with no results, I finally decided to ask my dad (who wasn’t in the country) and he told me that the card was with the mechanic. I gave him a call and he said he had no idea where the card was and that he would look around.
In the mean time I contacted the insurance guy and he told me he couldn’t renew my insurance if I had no card to renew the road tax, plus it was pointless for him to do so anyway. So I began hassling the mechanic, calling him everyday, asking him about it. After a few days, the mechanic told me that the card was with his runner.. and his runner was dead.
And so what was the situation? The runner’s business was passed onto his son, and so now his son was in charge of everything- but he had no idea where everything was.
Yesterday I called up the mechanic, and still the card was nowhere to be found.
Today I called up the insurance guy and asked what were my options. He told me it was find the card, or I was pretty much fucked, cos filing a lost report required my dad to fly back from the states (which wasn’t going to happen) and there was no other way around it. My road tax would be expiring on Wednesday, and that would pretty much be the end of me driving that car unless some miracle happened.
1.40pm, I gave my mechanic a call. Hallelujah! His runner (now, dead runner’s son) found the card! It was in pieces in the rubbish bin under their paper shredder! Just kidding. It was intact, and everything was okay. To conclude the story- I took a half day emergency leave from work to settle everything, and managed to get stuck in a 2.5 hour jam on the way home in the evening (fucking SMART tunnel should be renamed DUMB instead). And that kinda concludes a short chapter in my boring day.
I like the part where the fate of my car (more like my life) was determined on one man’s ability to find the golden piece of paper in time. Just like how movies are played out- heroes saving victims just before they get shot or thrown off a cliff. I just hope this doesn’t happen to me again. Not a movie I’d like to star in twice.