Things get even weirder.
In the Chicago area there are places that are called a "Currency
Exchange". The name is mis-leading at best. They do not exchange
currency. Instead, they cash checks, act as a Notary Public, and
act as an office for exchanging vehicle titles and renewing license
plates. I know it sounds strange, but it's Chicago...
Anyhow, after a couple of phone calls, I went back to the local Whizzer
dealer on Saturday to get the paperwork filled out. It was clear that the person
there had no clue about how to do it. He got on the phone to other folks
several times as I asked further questions. But I couldn't help all
When he thought he was done, I headed back to the Currency Exchange,
hoping to get there before it closed. Wrong! I got there about 5
minutes late. So I was dead in the water until Monday.
I spent the rest of Saturday, and Sunday, working on other projects.
While hearing a faint call from the Whizzer saying, "Go ahead, just
ride me, you won't get arrested..." But I ignored the tempation.
On Monday I went back to the Currency Exchange, pushed the paperwork
under the bullet-proof glass, and asked if that would work..?
Which was followed by a much longer exchange.
First we talked about how the dealer had failed to fill out the
odometer statement. I said that it was a new bike and it had less
than a mile on it. She said that the State wouldn't like that. I
talked about not wanting to have to drive all the way back to the
dealer. Finally she said, "Maybe I can fix that..!" This is the
I thought I was home free. Visions of Whizzing around the suburb were
filling my mind, and then I heard, "No, no, you don't have a Form
SP 556!" "A what?" I asked. "An SP556." she responded, as if I was supposed to know
what that was.
Needless to say, more conversation followed. But the bottom line
seemed to be that I needed a dealer's copy of an SP556 to prove that I
had paid sales tax. That in spite of the fact that it said so right
there on the bill of sale. The Currency Exchange person tried to help
by calling the dealer, though I presumed that would be fruitless. And
it was. She got an answering machine.
I ran some errands, got home, calmed down, and called the cell phone
number of the paperwork person at the dealer. "Hi, Del," she said,
"How are you?" Once again, the conversation went on for a while as I
explained what little I knew about an SP556. In the end she concluded
that she would have to call their accountant and would call me right
back. That was several hours ago. I don't expect a phone call
until I force the issue again.
By the time all that was done it was too late to call Dave at Whizzer
HQ. But, today in the mail I got a copy of an old Whizzer Service
Manual. Tomorrow, assuming it's a calmer day, I'll get a chance to
study the wiring diagram and compare it to my bike. That way, when I call Dave
to talk about the headlight issue, I'll hope that I don't sound as
ignorant as a Whizzer dealer...
Learning my bike is more fun than learning the law..
And I need some fun...