Jesus Christ, I finally got my South Carolina driver’s license. In theory, the obtaining of a new license is not difficult. There is no driving test, no written exam…..I have a license from another state, so clearly some DMV official felt that I was OK to drive. However, the problem, apparently was not COULD I drive, BUT could I actually be who I claim to be.
Let me give you a little background on the situation. Five years ago (yes, I said five), Jimmy and I moved to SC and like all law abiding new residents we took the inevitable trip to the DMV to get our new licenses. Together. My husband who is NEVER properly prepared for anything, presented his Massachusetts license, a fourth grade report card and a note from his mother and was whisked through for his photo with no problem. I presented every piece of paperwork I could find including but not limited to a birth certificate, social security card, adoption papers, Massachusetts license and utility bills and received a very lengthy and skeptical stare and a suggestion that I come back better prepared next time. I knew I should have brought the report card.
So for the next five years, I re-visited our local DMV with various legal documents only to be shunned for some new paperwork violation.Did you know that a birth certificate could be “too old”? Shouldn’t I actually get extra credit for holding onto it for all these years? Apparently not. I will admit that the lengthy time span had a little bit to do with my stubborn nature. Each trip to the DMV brought the protester out in me a little bit more. Sixty five dollars to have my new birth certificate sent, you say? Well, I think that is ludicrous, so I shall be a bad ass and refuse to do this for 6 months while I drive around with my Massachusetts license. Delaying the inevitable-my specialty.
When all was said and done, I presented the DMV with more paperwork than a Supreme Court nominee. On that magical day, five years later my very own paid government official looked at me and begrudgingly said the words I had longed to hear…..”You may have a seat.” I did it. I made it past the front desk. I took my number and found a seat amongst all the other glassy-eyed victims . No wait would be too long now, because I was finally getting my license. It is at this point in any cheesy sitcom that you would hear the scratching of the needle as it is dragged abruptly across the record.
It seems that while I had been confirming my identity over the past five years, my license had been suspended in two different states. No they could not tell me why and no there was nothing that they could do. So with two 1-800 numbers written on a scrap of paper and yet another scathing look I was asked to leave and come back when I had sorted this out.
Still on a high from having gotten this close, I immediately dialed the number for the Massachusetts DMV. A man with a soothing voice told me that my call was important to him, he thanked me for my patience and assured me that I would speak to the next available representative. That same voice continued to assure me while I stood outside for 20 minutes, moved to the car so that I could sit for ten, drove home to get my child off the bus 10 miles away and played 20 games of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. It was at this point that I decided to be crafty and used my husband’s phone to dial the other number I had been given. They were really quick. It was only 20 minutes before I was woken by a cheery North Carolina representative with a nasally twang.
It seems that I had been cited for a Failure to Appear in Mecklenburg County and therefore the powers that be suspended my license causing it to be suspended in Massachusetts also. Well, powers that be, guess what? I did appear. I lined up in Mecklenburg county Courthouse three years ago with drug dealers, rapists, and gangbangers to sort out my …..speeding ticket? Yes. That is correct. Going 10 miles an hour over the speed limit? No you may not just pay the ticket. You must attend Criminal court with all the other scary law breakers and ne’er-do-wells. And I did. I got propositioned by a deputy, initiated into a gang, and got a parking ticket. Clearly I did appear and I have gang tattoo to prove it.
Seems they knew this but had FORGOTTEN to enter it into the computer. Well, hey we all make mistakes. It’s okay, really. Driving on a suspended license for 3 years, being sent home from the DMV again, relaying information between two states that can’t possibly communicate through e-mail or fax with each other….but hey I got to speak with you really nice people . And no I never would have guessed that Massachusetts only has 6 people answering phone calls for the entire state. And again, I apologize for being a little nasty. I know that you are” busy and have other things to do”. I don’t and I am here for you, to make YOUR life easier. Glad I could help, you fuckers.
I suppose there is a lesson in all this. Maybe even a few and I don’t mind sharing them with you.
A. Don’t move.
B. Reduce your carbon footprint and ride a bike.
C. The Universe loves to fuck with me.
and D. Well, just add your own….
No comments:
Post a Comment