I had to renew my driver's license the other day. It was very, very scary. But I sucked it up (both literally AND figuratively 'cause I thought it would make me look thinner but, alas the picture was only a head shot) and went to the DMV.
Now, Jim and I are not like ordinary human beings. No, we're not
photo courtesy of www.newanimal.org
but it's close. We are what you call "PMB-ers". Yeah. I know. I've been called worse. Since we travel full time in our trailer (full time RV-er's, a.k.a. "gypsies") we have NO HOME. *sob*
How do we get our mail, you ask? Well, we have a mail service located in South Dakota. Our home address is actually a file folder in their office. They forward our mail to wherever we tell them and whenever we want the mail. Oh, another interesting tidbit? *yawn* South Dakota does NOT have state tax. So many full-timers register out of this state. The same goes for Florida and Texas. Okay, enough background bullcrap.
Bottom line. We are licensed out of SD because that is considered our "home". Our vehicles are, too. But the DMV is kind of puzzled as to how to handle "PMB-ers".
We walked into the empty DMV office, armed with every kind of ID imaginable - driver's licenses, passports, our birth certificates, and those of our parents, grand parents and great grand parents, bank statements, credit card statements, and our first born son.
We filled out the renewal application and approached the desk. The young lady was happy to help us till she looked down and read the application.
"Oh. You're a PMB," she said disdainfully.
"Yes," I answered meekly, avoiding her eyes and not knowing if I should bow or lick her shoes.
"Your passport and driver's license will do. BUT we ALSO need proof that you are staying in a campground with a South Dakota address. Do you have a receipt for that with BOTH your names on it?"
Okay, help me out here. What the heck is this going to show? I'm a fly-by-night person who just happened to stop at a local campground. I don't get it. But I guess they wanted something that had a SD address that WASN'T a PMB. Makes total sense.
I didn't have the receipt with me. It was sitting 5 miles away on my kitchen table. So we were sent away on our trek, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, off to get the Wicked Witch of the West's dreaded broom.
photo courtesy of www.kaboodle.com
We hightailed it back to the trailer, grabbed the receipt and returned to the office, but the young woman was no longer working behind the counter. An older man was sitting there. I didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. He was helping out one other customer. While we waited, about four other people lined up behind us. I think this was a good thing. This means he probably wouldn't have time to demand us to do push-ups, or hand stands or the like.
I was still worried about having to take a written test. But, seriously, I didn't need to take a written test the FIRST time I got the driver's license, so chances were I wouldn't have to. So I calmed down.
But then I thought - "Oh my GOD. What if I have to take a DRIVING TEST?"
Imagine parallel parking this sucker
Now, I drive the truck, no problem. But I can't say that I've ever parallel parked that bad boy!
The DMV man said, "NEXT!"
It was my turn. I bravely stepped up to the counter. Now here is my BIGGEST fear. One of these days the DMV is going to get smart and install a built-in scale right in front of the desk, unbeknown to the customer. So when the person hands over the application, the DMV just has to glance down at the weight section, look over at what the scale reads, LAUGH OUT LOUD, and hand back the application saying, "I DON'T THINK SO," or something like, "TRY ADDING ABOUT 50 POUNDS!"
This actually happened to my sister's friend. I'll call her "Nancy". Nancy went to the DMV, filled out the application, handed it to the person behind the counter who looked it over and said, "I think there is an error here," and pushed the application back towards Nancy.
Nancy glanced back down at the application, thinking she might have misspelled something or other, saw nothing was wrong, and pushed the paper back. "No, it's all right."
"Are you SURE?" The DMV employee said, pushing the application back towards Nancy.
"Yes", said Nancy pushing it back realizing this was a weight issue that the clerk was referring to (the Bitch!).
The shoving match went on a couple more times till finally the clerk succumbed. Whew! Close one!
Bottom line - the DMV employee accepted my application without smirking (he's GOOD!), took all my ID's, receipt, blood, urine, baby finger off my right hand, but I'm good. He told me to stand on the line against the wall so he could snap my picture. I foolishly took off my coat thinking he'd get maybe my head AND shoulders. Snort. Just my head. I wanted to do the whole "vogue" pose like Madonna,
photo courtesy of www.popular-nostalgia.com
but I had a feeling my application for the driver's license would have been tossed out the window.