Car Wars, Episode V: It Ends at the Pharmacy

So, six weeks after the accident, the car saga has come to a close.

Today we went to the dealership - remember, now, that this is after we had done the following in the six weeks since the accident:

1. Dealt with the police investigation (oh, we haven't heard the end of that, by the way, so stay tuned)
2. Waited for the insurance company to declare the car totaled.
3. Visited the Tax Office to deal with the glitch in our paperwork.
4. Picked out a new (well, new but used) car
5. Waited for the insurance company to tell us how much they were giving us for the totaled car.
6. Convinced the dealership to hold the car for us for a month, until we got the money.
7. Waited for the insurance company to tell us how much they were giving us for the totaled car.
8. Waited for the insurance company to tell us how much they were giving us for the totaled car.
9. Found out how much the insurance company was giving us.
10. Found out that there was some holdup with the money, and now they were not sure how much they were giving us.
11. Waited for the insurance company to tell us how much they were giving us for the totaled car.
12. Found out how much the insurance company was giving us - again.
13. Waited for the insurance company to actually give us the money.
14. Talked to the (ahem - NEW) car insurance company about insuring our new car.
15. Giving them every personal document we own so that the insurance could be figured out.
16. Waiting for the insurance company to fax us the insurance documents.
17. Going (today) to the dealership.

No, there is no way you are getting how frustrated and fed up we were.  So, our car salesman had told us that all we had to do was come today with our documents and "zehu!"  (that's it!).

We get there.

"So," our guy says, "did you go to the post office already?"
[Utterly stunned silence]
"What?"
"Yes, you have to go to the post office to transfer the title of the car."
"No one told us that."
"Oh, but you have to do it."

Then our car salesman (wonderful guy, by the way), said he'd take us to the post office. Not sure if he said this because he realized he had made a mistake in not telling us to do it beforehand and felt embarrassed or if he was sincerely just being a good guy and wanted a chance to get out of the office and smoke a few cigarettes.

We went to the post office.  We were No. 92 in line.  They were on No. 80.  A young couple was at the only window which handled transactions like ours.  They were doing something which was extremely complex.  It involved piles of little pieces of paper, teudot zehut, passports, money, their firstborn, and probably all of their jewelry.  It took them 40 minutes.

Anyway, our guy handled everything and handed us the registration form.  It was not in our name, it was in the name of the previous owner.  "Oh, no problem," our guy said, "you just have to go to the government office and get a new registration with your name on it."

I don't think there is a word for our faces at that point.  That's just about when we did the official "throw the hands in the air and give up" gesture.  Then, I remembered something, "Wait - is this something we can do at those new machines they have in the pharmacy?"  "Yes!" says our guy.

So from the car dealership to the post office to the car dealership (to actually get the car) and then to the pharmacy.

All in a day's work for us Israelis.