It was the first nice day of spring in 1998. I'm sitting at a light waiting to make a right turn. Light goes green, I start my turn, goose it a bit, get a LITTLE sideways. Didn't see the cop on the other side of the intersection. So he's behind me, I'm thinking "Oh shit". I pull into a Subway, he keeps going. Go inside, get a soda to celebrate, come back out, car won't start. Then I see the cop pulling in. My car is registered to a 1970 plate. Cop runs it, doesn't come up in his computer. He gets a screwdriver out of the squad car, takes the plate off mine, and tells me to walk home. So I walked across the street to Murrays, got the shit to fix my car, called my dad and told him to bring the other 1970 plate (I have a matched pair) and told him what happened. It took 2 weeks to get the damn plate back.
When he first pulled into the subway (the cop) he was pretty pissed because he had a domestic call right when he was about to "light me up" so he had to attend to that. Told me it was illegal for me to drive with a non correct plate and so on....
I used to get pulled over all the time for that damn plate because the numbers on it matched a blue plate registered to a 1984 Olds in Paw Paw Michigan. I finally went to the S.O.S. and told them what was going on. Now I have an official letter from some dude in Lansing I keep in the car at all times. I need to get it laminated because it's falling apart.