One license plate (VA tags: TK-42ONE)
with Frame (Pittsburgh Steelers)
What an interesting day. Started my usual 45 minute commute in my usual groggy fashion. Flipping between the radio and my latest Star Wars audio book just to stay awake, I apparently lost my license plate (along with the frame and screws).
So I cruise on my merry way until I neared the La Grange area of Route 3 (aka - the big horse). As I pass the big horse, a lady driving next to me honks and starts pointing at my car while saying something. Thinking I have a flat tire, I promptly pull over. Thinking about how nice it is to find somebody actually doing a good deed, I wasn’t over-concerned with the flat tire. I knew I could make it to a gas station and fill up with air or, in a worst-case scenario, use my spare “tire.”
As I got out of the car, I checked for a possible ambush (that paranoid side of me still can’t trust people). Seeing none, I walked around the rear of the car and checked my tires. All had air, albeit a bit low in some of them. Nothing that would warrant a full-fledged honk and wave-down. Walking back to my door to drive away, I saw it.
No license plate.
Gone.
My custom plate was missing!
ARGH!
So I hoofed it back towards home to turn around and drive back to work slowly while looking for my plate. The only thing I could think of was that she saw it fall off. But, there is a chance that she saw it earlier and now didn’t see it. We had been playing a bit of “I pass you, you pass me” along the way. So driving a nice, legal 55 mph, I headed back towards work, seeing nothing but trash, trash, and more trash. Nothing that looked like my plate (except that case of beer).
So I called the local Sheriff’s office, who was kind enough to make a report with all pertinent info. An officer even called me back to get more details and agreed to report it as “lost” so if I should happen to find it, I would be pulled over with guns drawn.
As of 1600 hours today, there’s still no sign of my plate. But my wife was kind enough to call and say that she had found my Steeler frame. Maybe they’ll win Sunday after all. Seeing as it was found closer to home, there may be a glimmer of hope left that I can recover my plate without wading through the morass of DMV and trying to re-issue my recently renewed tags.
A little side note to add to the mystery, about a half mile after I pulled out of the house, the Sheriff’s Animal Control Officer pulled out behind me. Further evidence that I likely had my plate at that time. Or evidence that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been and proof that he may need to slow down instead of nearly running my wife off the road. But that’s a whole other rant.
So I cruise on my merry way until I neared the La Grange area of Route 3 (aka - the big horse). As I pass the big horse, a lady driving next to me honks and starts pointing at my car while saying something. Thinking I have a flat tire, I promptly pull over. Thinking about how nice it is to find somebody actually doing a good deed, I wasn’t over-concerned with the flat tire. I knew I could make it to a gas station and fill up with air or, in a worst-case scenario, use my spare “tire.”
As I got out of the car, I checked for a possible ambush (that paranoid side of me still can’t trust people). Seeing none, I walked around the rear of the car and checked my tires. All had air, albeit a bit low in some of them. Nothing that would warrant a full-fledged honk and wave-down. Walking back to my door to drive away, I saw it.
No license plate.
Gone.
My custom plate was missing!
ARGH!
So I hoofed it back towards home to turn around and drive back to work slowly while looking for my plate. The only thing I could think of was that she saw it fall off. But, there is a chance that she saw it earlier and now didn’t see it. We had been playing a bit of “I pass you, you pass me” along the way. So driving a nice, legal 55 mph, I headed back towards work, seeing nothing but trash, trash, and more trash. Nothing that looked like my plate (except that case of beer).
So I called the local Sheriff’s office, who was kind enough to make a report with all pertinent info. An officer even called me back to get more details and agreed to report it as “lost” so if I should happen to find it, I would be pulled over with guns drawn.
As of 1600 hours today, there’s still no sign of my plate. But my wife was kind enough to call and say that she had found my Steeler frame. Maybe they’ll win Sunday after all. Seeing as it was found closer to home, there may be a glimmer of hope left that I can recover my plate without wading through the morass of DMV and trying to re-issue my recently renewed tags.
A little side note to add to the mystery, about a half mile after I pulled out of the house, the Sheriff’s Animal Control Officer pulled out behind me. Further evidence that I likely had my plate at that time. Or evidence that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been and proof that he may need to slow down instead of nearly running my wife off the road. But that’s a whole other rant.Found:
On the way home, I found my license plate (despite my wife and father both driving right by it). From the info I’ve gathered, I appear to have lost it the night before. The tag was found about a half mile to a mile from the road I live on (on the left side of the road as I come home). The plate was found right at the intersection on the right side (sitting about a foot from the edge of the pavement). So making my left turn then accelerating, I think the plate would have fallen off there perfectly. Thus explaining how the frame wound up further down the road (as in the frame fell off first, then the plate).I’ve now secured both plates (and frames) on both cars with anti-theft bolts that are a good half-inch longer than the stock screws. Maybe I won’t get screwed again.
Neil@tk42one.com
© 2006 TK42ONE.com Productions
© 2006 TK42ONE.com Productions
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