Tales From the DMV

I was driving into Greensboro yesterday to meet a friend for lunch when I decided to pop by the DMV and take care of that little license renewal thing I'd had on my "to do" list since January when I received the notice. The parking lot was only half-full, which I took for a good sign. I had two hours until I had to meet my friend so I figured even if I had to wait for an hour, I'd still have plenty of time. 

Uh, reality check. 

Judging from the waiting room, people ride in clown cars to the DMV. There must have been an average of 8 people for every car in the lot. 

"How long's the wait?" I asked.

The clerk gave me the sad smile that seems to be a permanent feature of folks who work at the DMV. "About 2 hours," he said.

I bolted. I'd rather drive illegally than hang out for 2 hours at the DMV. 

Realizing this wasn't practical, I went back today armed with three books and a writing tablet. No need. I was called back in less than 30 minutes. That's when the panic set in.

I don't know what it is, but taking any sort of DMV test freaks me out. I'm always afriad my eyesight isn't going to pass muster and that I'll fail the road sign test. I did actually choke on one sign. It was a plain yellow circle and I just went blank. 

"Uh... um..." I said stalling. "Oh geez, I know this..."

"Goes choo-choo," suggested the examiner. 

"Oh! Right! Railroad crossing." I smiled sheepishly. 

"Don't sweat it," said the examiner. "I can't tell you how many teachers come in here and can't name the school crossing sign."

Okay, good to know. 

I had my picture taken which, although she wouldn't show it to me, the examiner said was better than my last one. (I thanked her and than had that, "Hey, wait a minute..." moment.)

Bottom line, I survived the DMV. Day. of. Accomplishment.