No, it can never be "uneventful".
Some of you who know SIL Henry will also be aware that he can have a somewhat different sense of humor. So imagine if you will bright and early - strike that - early on Monday morning at the Motel 6 off I-84 in Troutdale. I am just completing my shower when I hear "knock, knock" on the door. I quickly cover up enough parts to crack the door open to see Henry's imposing frame.
"The Troutdale police want to talk to you", he says.
I admit that I stood there silently with a skeptical look on my face.
"No, really. They are out here and say that your license plates don't match any registered vehicle."
I peered around the door frame to the parking lot, and I do indeed see a police car pulled behind the Prius so as to block it in.
Huh? I've had the "C-MYSTE" plates through several vehicles, and dutifully transfered them each time. I tell Henry to let them know that I will be out as soon as I throw some clothes on.
Very shortly I bustled out, with wet hair and not enough on to adequately protect from the freezing-temperature-combined-with-gorge-winds weather. By that time, the officer had read the VIN and discovered that the license plate was recorded by the state as CYMSTE. What is that: CUM-STEE?
The officer (a mere child, by the way) says that I should take care of this as soon as I get home. I mean, he could see that the plates themselves are clearly well used. Or as he said "old".
I said "And here I thought that you were just harassing me due to my bumper stickers." He said "No" and smiled, so maybe that was ok. But then again maybe he was . . .
I didn't think however to ask him what the heck he was doing running my plates. My car was parked quite legally in the lot, and I had filled out the license plate number and make of vehicle on my motel registration. I had been there four nights.
Mandy opined that it was because it wasn't exactly a Prius neighborhood. It was a "beater Chevy" neighborhood. The aging plates on a newer vehicle may have triggered his suspicion that it could be a stolen car. I scratch my head that someone would steal a car with somewhat unique bumper stickers and then put personal plates on it, but . . . well, do you know some of the people that they allow to vote?!
Or for that matter run things. But I digress.
Tom took my car down to DMV on Thursday, and now I have no plates at all but just a trip permit in the window. He and the helpful DMV employee decided that it was easier to turn these in and apply for new personal plates labeled "C-MYSTE" than to convince a bureaucrat somewhere that a clerk had made an error.