I had moved to South Carolina from New York.

At that time a vehicle inspection was required to register my car. I was nervous; my car was in rough shape. I thought of New York State's rigorous inspections. Any number of problems might turn up that would be expensive to fix.

I drove down a country road and found a garage that had an inspection sign. When I told the mechanic what I needed, he circled the car, turned on the lights and honked the horn. Then he attached a new sticker and asked me for the three-dollar fee.

I was shocked. "Is that all you have to do?" I asked.

He answered, "Well, you drove it here, didn't you?"