SOS
May 4, 2026
Hello Friend!
It finally happened. Our old red Jeep finally gave it up and we had to replace her. To be fair, she was 19 faithful years old and we'd saved a whole lot of money on car payments. But then in the grocery store parking lot a chunk of her undersides fell out and we knew it was time.
Our scramble for a quick replacement ended in the purchase of a 2025 hybrid Ford Maverick, which is perfect for us. But it also meant that I'd need to make one of those dreaded trips to the Secretary of State office to transfer a license plate. Ugh.
On Monday, late morning, I walked in to the closest SOS office with my neat red folder containing proof of ownership and insurance. A smiling lady standing at a kiosk at the door stopped me to ask if I had an appointment. I did not. Her smile wilted a little, and she told me all of Monday was filled and I'd have to come back. Okay....so I made an appointment for Wednesday.
I received an email reminder on Tuesday, requesting that I come in ten minutes early for my appointment. I was impressed with all the efficiency of this pre-process, and hoped that maybe this time it would be a quick visit. Sigh.
I showed up a little early on Wednesday morning, and met the same smiling guard lady at the door. This time I had the right answer - yes! I have an appointment!
She sent me directly to a line with about eight folks ahead of me. At which point I waited thirty minutes without any significant forward progress. Good grief.
I could see the employees busy looking at screens, shuffling papers and chatting with clients at the window, but somehow nothing happened.
Inevitably the people in line with me started to grumble, declaring that if this were a REAL business they'd be closing shop because of the horribly slow customer service. Yep, this is standard chat in the SOS line.
At some point the lady in front of me started doing leg lifts and simple calisthenics. I guess the long time standing was causing her difficulty, but I was afraid she'd accidentally clock someone with her swinging arms.
Finally it was my turn, and I struggled to walk and not run to the available window clerk.
The gal was super friendly, probably trained to suppress complaints after loooong waits. She stared at the paperwork I handed through the slot and very quickly looked confused. Oh no! What if I'd brought the wrong documents?? Honestly it's been years since we last bought a vehicle, so things might have changed.
Before I could panic she looked at me and calmly told me the plate had already been transferred. Apparently the car dealer had done this and just hadn't explained to us. Nooooooo! An hour of my life standing in a useless line that I could never have back! Not to mention the embarrassment. But wait, I needed a Park Pass for my plate. Yay, a purpose! I whipped out my checkbook (the card readers were unreliable) and paid the $20 for a plate sticker.
Mission accomplished, I left with Park Pass in hand and deep relief that I was done with the SOS. At least until our second old car dies...
