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A DMV Journey

This week I had to take the once-every-four-year trek to the DMV to renew my driver's license.
I take this very seriously because last time I had to renew my license, I was a tad bit late.
And by tad bit, I mean almost five months late. 

But come on, who really checks out the expiration date on their license frequently, right? 

They're kind enough to give you a grace period, but apparently 5 months is considered "excessive," so my butt had to take that damn driver's test. The same one I took when I was 16, and then promptly forgot all about.  I don't remember how many questions there were, but I do remember that you can only miss 6 and still pass.  I'd already missed 5 and was down to the very last question when I started to sweat a bit. 

Can I just interrupt for a second and pose an important question, lovely readers?  Who the heck actually pays attention to, much less cares, exactly & specifically how many feet or yards or centimeters before a turn you must put on your turn signal? 
I turn on my turn signal before I turn, which is a heck of a lot sooner that other jerkoffs out there who don't use one at all, or turn it on as they're turning....

But I digress.  I passed the test by the skin of my teeth, and got my license.  Whew!
Fast forward four years and we're at the present day.  Renewal time.

The local DMV is completely across town from where I live.  On one of our busiest roads.  That I typically avoid at all costs anyway, but particularly near 5 pm.  On the way over, which normally takes 15 minutes, I was caught in the most obnoxiously slow mob of traffic and ended up taking twice as long to get there.  Along the way I witnessed 2 cars run red lights, got cut off twice (neither used turn signals, by the way), and passed 3 fender-benders/accidents with cops and lights and the works.  Idiots.  They all needed to get their butts to the DMV with me to learn how to drive their sorry selves.

So I get there, with already worn patience, and take my number: 493.  What?  If I find they're only on like, 268, I'm gonna have a heart attack.  And they give me a form to fill out while I wait.  I couldn't figure out why I couldn't understand a word until I realized the Espanol side was up.  Duh.  Oh, and DMV people, if you're reading this, I totally lied about my weight on that form.  I knocked off 20 lbs, and I feel no guilt about it. (unless that's illegal.  If so, then it never happened. I have no clue what you're talking about.  What's that you're saying? Oh, look, a Christmas tree!)
I then people-watch for a bit.  It's true what they say.  You really do see a varied cross section of America in the DMV.  It's quite diverse.  So's the smell in there though too.  Pee eww.

Alas, my wait wasn't long at all.  And the DMV lady I worked with was super, super nice.  I listened patiently while she asked me some formulaic, scripted questions with all sorts of official sounding vocabulary like felony and restrictions and eligibility and such.  Then, she waited patiently while I took about 5 minutes and 3 alcohol prep wipes to disinfect the vision screening machine.  (You would've too if you'd seen who went before me.)
Then, she took my money and off I went to take the mug shot, er, I mean license photo.
Which, by the way, looks like she used their camera lense with  the closest zoom possible.  I look like a freakin Mrs. Potato Head in the picture. Anyone ever see "So I Married an Axe Murderer"?
HEED!  MOVE!  I'm not kidding.  Look at that boy's head. It's like an orange on a toothpick.
**loosely quoted

As I walked out I was able to eavesdrop a bit on a "conversation" between a DMV lady and a man and his son.  They weren't technically "conversing", but more "yelling".  She kept shouting things like, "I don't know your son's issues.  YOU should know your son's issues.  What, I'm supposed to magically know why there are restrictions on his license? "  I had a flashback and thought I was back in therapy for a second.  I wanted to share my issues as well.  Clearly we all have issues.  Good stuff.

On the way to my car I stepped over 2 crushed forties of beer on the sidewalk outside the door.  Um, I'm pretty sure whoever those belonged to didn't pass the driving test.....

See you in 5 years, DMV.


2 Comment:

Anne P December 8, 2010 at 8:27 PM  

You are hilarious! I did the same thing last year, where mine had expired in August but I didn't realize it until December.

Here in Georgia you not only have to take the written test again, but the road test also (yikes). I aced the written test but failed the parallel parking horribly.

Luckily the tester was in a good mood and I alerted him that I'd failed the parallel parking portion of the road test when I was 17 so would probably do it again at 47. He said, "Are you telling me that you have not parallel parked ever in 30 years?!" I said, "Yep." He says, "So if you are going somewhere and the best parking spot is open but you'd have to parallel park, that you'd drive until you found a spot that you wouldn't have to parallel park in?" I responded with, "That would be a true statement."

I think I made him laugh so hard that he let me have a license. I mean hey, I've been driving for 30 years, one accident which was not my fault, one ticket, no DUI's, etc. I think he fugired that I *do* know how to drive.

Steph December 15, 2010 at 3:23 PM  

Anne,
I've parallel parked once, and it was a failure of epic proportions. I'm surprised my car didn't ask me nicely to never try it again.
Thanks for sharing! And reading!

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