Our great leader participated in last Sunday's 5km race organised by the Santa Fe University in Guanajuato, Gto. He probably ended up somewhere in the middle of what looked like 75ish participants. Rumor has it that if it wasn't for the blisters and the unfortunate bad start towards the end of the pack, he would have probably won. We're almost sure of it.
Truth to be told, the head honcho does not much fancy running. And less so long distance. And although he may not have finished in first place. Or second. Or third for that matter, we are highly confident that the use of our short shorts made our man the sassiest competitor.
Went to get plates for the hog last Thursday. And driver's license. Let's start with the plates.
Got to the state traffic office at 8.30, after having left the battery with the LTH dealer to have it charged. Delivered the papers: vehicle invoice, the unregister receipt, electricity bill and driver's license. All according to requirements. Everything in order. So far so good.
The fellow attending printed some stuff, reviewed some papers, went to ask his colleague something. Then went to ask his supervisor something. Came back: "Just a moment and I'll get you your plates." I went to the bathroom. He went back to his colleague. Pointed to something on his paper and went back to his supervisor. Then he came back to me and said "I'm sorry, I can't give you your plates. It says model -98 on the invoice and my record states -96. You will have to go to a notary public and get a sealed errata of faith statement (not sure this is the proper term). Then come back and I can process your plates."
So I went out and got in the glorious egg and got on my way to the baratillo plaza in Guanajuato, because that's where notary public reside. But I thought: "Why don't I give the plates a shot at Pozuelos?", which is the other place in Guanajuato that issue plates. So I did. And it worked. And I didn't have to go to the notary public.
On to the driver's license. I went back to the same state traffic office that had denied me my plates. Passed the counter of the fellow who asked a errata of faith of me as unnoticed as possible and went to the driver's license module. The guy at the counter asked for my car driver's license to type in some data and I got on with the theoretic test. On which I only scored an eight.
But eight's enough to pass. So I thought that I was going to get my motorcycle license when another state traffic employee approached and said: "come with me". We went out and he asked:
"Where is your motorcycle parked?"
"We need your motorcycle so that you can take the practical driver's test."
"I didn't know about no test."
"Can't we use one of the police officer's bikes?" There were a couple of them standing in the patio.
"We need your motorcycle."
"Hmm... I've got my Swedish license, isn't that proof enough that I know how to ride?"
"Come with me."
I came with him. He grabbed my arm, got a little closer and whispered:
"Let's go out to the parking lot."
"Ahm, sure.", I replied.
"Follow me. We'll go out and kill some time so that when we get back it looks as if we've done the test."
"Aaah. Good idea."
"We normally make a couple of turns in the parking lot and I check and make sure that they know what they're doing."
We got out to the parking lot and chit chatted for a few minutes. He told me about the cost of the license, I asked him if he rode, which he didn't (found that to be funny for a driver's license evaluator). He said that since I only got an eight on the theoretical test, he was going to have me fail one of his evaluation points. Otherwise it'd be too obvious that we had cheated. So I got a nine. On the way back into the building he said: "So we're done, now if you feel like it, how about a little soda money for me and the boys?" Now, the head honcho is not known for his fingerspitzgefühl so I started digging for my wallet in my pocket. He was quick to stop me: "No, not now. I'll follow you outside when you're done." I paid for my license, got it and went out to the parking lot. The employee was not far behind. I gave him some pocket change, thanked him dearly for his help and got on with my life.
So out of two government papers obtained, two government papers obtained in a questionable fashion. That's a perfect 100% score.
Later that evening, when I told the story to wifey, she laughed at my lack of generosity: "Only forty pesos? Are you kidding, he probably expected something like 200 pesos, at least". Again, the head honcho is not known for his fingerspitzgefühl. He does not understand subtleties. If soda money is what you ask for, then soda money is what you get.
The head honcho's new toy: a -98 Suzuki Savage, 650cc thumper was delivered yesterday and we spent the weekend fixing some minor details. This is one of the simplest machines imaginable and it seems to be a good bike to work on. So we'll likely end up modifying it, little by little. This is probably not the last thing you see of this, the newest addition to the honcho's stable.
April fools, folks.
Not for Pussies!