Last Wednesday, I took a half-day vacation and ran to the DMV in the development zone with my ID card in my pocket. On the way, I was worried about whether there would be a long queue like the last annual inspection, but it turned out that the cancellation window was so cold that you could hear the hum of the air-conditioning unit - it seems that everyone is not too reluctant to say goodbye to their own old buddy ah.

The lady at the counter didn't even raise her eyes when she heard that I wanted to cancel my scrap car, "Do you have a photo of the wreckage? Where is the recycling certificate?" I froze in place, and realized that I couldn't come empty-handed to get a "divorce" from my car. I went home to find out the year to buy a car file bag, which actually also clip the first insurance 4S store sent coupons, paper edges are yellowed and curled.

The second time I learned a good lesson, in advance in the "Ganzhou traffic police" public number booked the afternoon session. The little brother took my ID card in the machine "drop" two times, suddenly frowned: "You this car in 2019 violations have not been dealt with." I just remembered that the car was towed to the scrapyard, and before it "retired" I left a speeding ticket as a souvenir.

The most dramatic part was the payment. I thought it was a system glitch when the payment was displayed as "0 yuan". The man in the sunglasses next to me said quietly, "Now we don't charge a fee for canceling an account, so the government is saving us money." However, the 100 yuan for the payment of the violation of the law still makes me hurt a little bit, I should have known that the road speed limit signs clearly remembered.

When I walked out of the office, the setting sun colored the official seal on the cancellation certificate in gold. Suddenly, I remembered that the day I bought my car ten years ago was also a sunny day, and the sales manager's words of "safe journey" when handing over the keys seemed to be still ringing in my ears. I took out my cell phone and took a picture of the thin A4 paper, and before I could think of a copy for my friend's circle, my finger had already clicked on the group of former car enthusiasts out of habit.

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