Saturday, March 15, 2008
Three Letters that Strike Terror Into the Hearts of Brave Men
I had to go to the DMV to renew my license the other day. Now, this is not a fun trip under the best of circumstances. But when you've failed to update your address with the Secretary of State, causing your renewal paperwork to be sent into the Heart of Darkness, and then not noticed that your license was expired until informed of that fact by a sassy lady at an airport, the process becomes even more daunting. So I went in fully prepared to be alternately bored and terrorized; I even brought a snack and a magazine to fill my downtime.
But if the truth be told, my DMV experience was not nearly as bad as it had every right to be. I did have to cool my heels in a poorly appointed waiting room for nearly an hour, watching the "now serving" numbers crawl slowly upward, but everyone was actually pretty helpful, if relatively indifferent to my presence. I just had to pay $10 for a new license (cash, because in a move that has to be unique in the entirety of the US, the only credit card they take is Discover) and sit for a new picture. Of course, my eyes are half closed in that picture and I look like I'm about to sneeze, but I wasn't exactly expecting Glamour Shots. Really I'm just glad to be back on the road, and that I didn't have to take the written test. The one thing I didn't bring was a number two pencil.
I had to go to the DMV to renew my license the other day. Now, this is not a fun trip under the best of circumstances. But when you've failed to update your address with the Secretary of State, causing your renewal paperwork to be sent into the Heart of Darkness, and then not noticed that your license was expired until informed of that fact by a sassy lady at an airport, the process becomes even more daunting. So I went in fully prepared to be alternately bored and terrorized; I even brought a snack and a magazine to fill my downtime.
But if the truth be told, my DMV experience was not nearly as bad as it had every right to be. I did have to cool my heels in a poorly appointed waiting room for nearly an hour, watching the "now serving" numbers crawl slowly upward, but everyone was actually pretty helpful, if relatively indifferent to my presence. I just had to pay $10 for a new license (cash, because in a move that has to be unique in the entirety of the US, the only credit card they take is Discover) and sit for a new picture. Of course, my eyes are half closed in that picture and I look like I'm about to sneeze, but I wasn't exactly expecting Glamour Shots. Really I'm just glad to be back on the road, and that I didn't have to take the written test. The one thing I didn't bring was a number two pencil.
