So today I wanted to register the car and get my Quebec plates.
I gathered up all of the paperwork and headed down to the SAAQ to plead my case.
Well I tried to... but first of all the station closest to the SAAQ was closed for renovation. Still the bus worked and I was soon there - only to be greeted by a woman as unpleasant as she was unqualified.
"You are missing a form!" she barked
"Really?" I asked, eyebrows raised in a roguish Roger Moore way
"Yes!" she exclaimed
"Which form?" I asked, reasonably
"Go 'ere and get the form!" she barklaimed
"And which form should I ask for?" I inquired
"Zay will know!" she emphatically quoth and that was that
Two hours later I'm down at the Institute du Pinstitute, located in the Chateau Gâteaux in front of customs.
"There is no other form" said the nice lady."This is everything, 'ere is my number, if you 'ave any more problems, make zem call me"
Unable to accept good news regarding the car at this point I then called the SAAQ - except that their office doesn't take incoming calls.
So I called the RIV (the people who register imports)
"You're RIV exempt" purred Catwoman "the woman at the SAAQ may not have seen that before, ask to see her superior and if there is a problem have them call us."
So tomorrow I head back to the SAAQ, Judith, two phone numbers and the same forms in hand....
but with a new Blackberry in my pocket (thank you Rogers) and with a spring in my step "Bring me your superior, you stupid woman. And I do not mean the monkey that you 'ave in the back - though it too is superior to you"
---> My life does feel like an episode of 'Allo 'Allo right now
