The Sale

What could be simpler than buying a car. Well in Bet Shemesh I would say quantum physics, nuclear fission, mating pandas and honest politicians.

So here’s the story; The guy I bought the car off, bought it when he was a tourist for cash. He paid the tax and had an official white piece of paper proving that he was who he was, had done what he had done and all was kosher, kushti, safe, above board, transparent and most of all followed all the government regulations.

We agreed a price, shook hands and proceeded to the post office where they were supposed to stamp another piece of paper and we would sign, pay and run off into the sunset, he would take a cab and I would take my nearly new car.

Of course that’s no how it happened. The post office said that because he bought the car when he was a tourist we needed to go to the licensing office, which by the way was closed until tomorrow.

The next day.

With a price already agreed, hands shaken, we proceeded to licensing office where hopefully they would stamp another piece of paper and we would sign, pay and run off into the sunset, he would take a cab and I would take my nearly new car.

We waited patiently in line. We reached the front only for the very helpful young women to announce that she was only dealing with driving licenses at this point. “Why?” we asked, “because I am” she replied.

We waited patiently in line. We reached the front again. She asked to see our driving licenses. “They are ok”, she said rather irritanted. “We know” we replied, “we are here to transfer ownership of a car.” “But I told” she barked “only driving licenses.” “But there is nobody else here.” “Yes’, she practically shouted “but the computer is down so I cant help you.” “Why didn’t you mention this 45 minutes ago”. She saw red. “There is a sign on the door!”

We went to the door and there on floor in illegible scrawl was a notice that the computer was being repaired, come back tomorrow.

The next day.

With a price already agreed, hands shaken, we proceeded to licensing office where they would stamp another piece of paper and we would sign, pay and run off into the sunset, he would take a cab and I would take my nearly new car.

We could feel her scowl before we even entered the office. We reached the front of the line and explained why we are here and what we wanted.

“Why didn’t you do this at the post office?” she snapped. “Because they wouldn’t let us”. “Give me your ID cards.” “I don’t have one” said the seller, I am a tourist.” “Then you cant sell your car.” “But I have brought my passport and the bill of purchase.” She huffed and snorted. She looked at the passport, “that’s not you she shouted”, “yes it is”, the seller retorted, “but the numbers different she shouted”, “but I have this white piece of paper check”. Then absolute silence. Pay me this, go to the post office pay that then bring back this paper stamped.

“Do we both have to come back?” I asked cautiously, “no just one of you.” “Are you sure?” “Yes I am sure now go I am very busy.”

We ran to the post office, stamped, paid and signed, then I dropped him off and returned to the licensing office. Presented papers receipts etc. “Where is the other guy?” she snapped. “You told me only one of us has to come back.” “No I didn’t, get him, he has to sign here and pay this so I can stamp that.”

Three days, 80 kilometers of round trips, 5 hours of waiting in post offices and government offices, 6 stamps, some money and signatures and I have my new car.

My friend called me from the UK and told me he also bought a second hand car. It took him 15 minutes to do the transfer. I thought at that second maybe life would be better in the UK.

But who am I kidding?