The Joy Of Buying A Mississippi Car Tag

I got up early this morning and went to the bank.

 The lady said, “morning may I help you?”

 “Yes, I need a lot of money all in cash.”

 “Is this a bank robbery?”

 “No, I am going to buy two car tags and they only take cash.”

 “Oh my, two tags. You sure you just hadn’t rather rob the place?”

 Before I could say no, the bank manager came over.

 “Is there a problem here, Mrs. Jones?”

 “Yes sir, Mr. Simmons here needs enough money to buy two car tags.”

 “I see. I am not sure we have that much cash on hand. Can you do with a cashier’s check?”

 “No, sir. They don’t take any one’s check over at Raymond.”

 “Yes, that’s right. I forgot. Let’s see what we can come up with.

 He started to walk away when he turned.

 “You know my brother bought three tags over there several years ago.”

 “Oh, how did that go?”

 “Not too well. He is still in the state hospital. It was just more stress than his mind could take.”

 “I can imagine.”

 A few minutes later after cleaning out my checking and saving accounts, I had a small envelope of cash and was on my way to Raymond.

 I live in a unusual county that actually has two courthouses.

 I like going to Raymond. The courthouse was build before the civil war. There is an old tree out front with benches under it. There beside the tree is a plaque explaining how this tree was used for hanging horse thieves and such after their trial inside.

 It is surrounded by an old iron fence that was originally erected to keep people from allowing their horse to graze and poop on the grass while they were inside paying there taxes or waiting  to be hung.

 Over the years they have build a huge water tower just out side the west yard and the sheriff has a small office across from that. They painted arrows on the pavement around the water tower and put a traffic light on the corner. Then they connected this maze to Main Street. It runs in front of the courthouse.

 This would make it impossible even for a New York cab driver to maneuver around.

 There are never any traffic accidents. Still there are many people playing chicken. Sometimes a senior citizen will simply get frustrate and stop. Everyone else has to wait for him or her to move or one of the deputies to come out and help them maneuver their vehicle back to Main Street.

 Today I made my way through the obstacle course and to the side door. There was a piece of copy paper in the window that read. NEED TAG CALL 601-something

 I pulled my cell phone out and called not only for myself but also for several others that was standing around complaining.

 A lady answered and told me they had moved. I wanted to say really but I am too southern to be rude on the phone.

 After getting directions, I found myself on a narrow street with cars lined down both sides. I was then forced to walk two blocks, until I saw a small office building. There between a beauty shop and a Nationwide agent was the tax collectors office.

 I couldn’t read the sign on the door but I did see the line trailing out of it.

 I stood in line and for the next forty-five minutes listening to an old man complain about ever branch of the government from local to national. I just nodded and hoped that when I got his age and was standing here again some young whippersnapper wouldn’t tell me to shut up when I started bending his ear.

 I finally made it inside the building and I was next in line. There were four mean looking women standing there selling the tags and one sweet little lady with a half smile on her face. I could tell she was going to be mine. She was finishing up and I was next.

 When she finished with her customer, she looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back. She then stuck that sign in front of her that read, next window.

 A minute or two later a old lady that was old enough to have witnessed the last hanging out front said loudly, nexxxxsss.  (nexxxxss is next in southern with a twist of redneck to it. They don’t end the word with a “t” because after pronouncing all those x’s they are simple too tired to add anything. They end it with a snake like hiss. I step up, “good morning.”

 “You got your papers?” 

“Yes, m’am, I need two today.”

 “TWO”

 Not quiet so loud this time I said, “Yes m’am two.”

 She rolled her eyes up, “You got cash, we aint’ into taking no checks here.”

 I felt like messing with her just a little so I said, “I was thinking of putting it on a credit card.”

 “Well, Mr. you were thanking wrong. Now if you aint’ got cash you need to get on out of the way were I can help the next’un.”

 I didn’t even bother to tell her that I used to work with her boss the tax collector and that we have been friends for years. After all some day he will be gone just like all the ones before him and she will still be here.

 Any way I am now legal in both my cars and a lot worse off financially.

 Have a great day.

ggs

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One Comment on “The Joy Of Buying A Mississippi Car Tag”

  1. Deanna Says:

    Seriously, you have to live in Mississippi to understand the true hilarity of our political system. Whether it is car tags or financing education… it is best to laugh or wind up in the state hospital!


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