I really had nothing to do with any of the work that goes into buying and licensing a car. I just remember receiving a package in the mail which contained a license plate and my dad calling me with directions to an import dealer in Albany, NY. I had just finished finals at school and had a week or so to kill before graduation so I was more than willing to drive the 3 hours each way to pick up my brother’s ‘new’ 1984 VW GTI. The only tough part was finding someone who was willing to tag along and then drive my car back.
We arrived at the shop in Albany (after a lunch break at a scary McDonald’s) and I walked inside and told them I was there to pick up the white GTI. They then handed me the keys. That was it. Really? I had brought my passport in order to prove my identity and had figured that they would be unwilling to release the car to someone other than its registered owner. Oh well. After a quick ocular pat-down on the car I noticed nothing troubling other than the fact that it needed some air in its tires. The car started right up and sounded like it had enough power under the hood to propel the small box to highway speeds. After affixing the license plate I thanked the dealers and left.