Darren warned me.
He even stated that on whatever day I chose to go to the DMV to have my license renewed, we would eat out for dinner that evening. I hugged him and told him we wouldn’t need to do that. I was fully prepared for a bad experience.
However, I wasn’t prepared for an experience that would rival an episode of the Twilight Zone
It all started out well. I was basking in the knowledge that Laura had gotten commended on the reading and math TAKS test.
The front desk lady was nice, the line was short, life was good.
The lady behind the counter said “I can help the next person”.
That was me – Wow this was going fast!
Everything was moving along quite nicely – I passed the visiosn test, stated my height and weight, and confirmed that yes, my license needs to be mailed to a separate address than the one stated on the license.
And then she said, with a perfectly straight face, “Are you an American citizen?”
Shocked and confused, I answered “yes” but it came out as more of a question than a statement.
She said “Well, in 1985 when you first applied for a license, you failed to answer that question so I need to see your birth certificate.”
(note to the reader: in 1985 when I first applied for a driver’s license, the woman who took my application and put into the system was a lifelong resident of the same town of which I was a lifelong resident. She knew my whole family – my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She didn’t need to ask if I was and American Citizen. She knew I was!)
Back to the story - She looked at me, as if expecting to me to say “Oh, let me get the notarized copy that I always keep with me in my wallet”
But I didn’t.
And so she said “Do you have one?”
I replied, “I don’t have it with me”
She said, “Well, I need to see it”
I replied, “Ok, I’ll go home and get it”
She said “Ok – when you get back, you don’t have to stand in line, I’ll give you a line pass”, which I thought was kind of her. But then she grabbed a pass from the huge stack on her desk and handed it to me.
Hmmm, I thought to myself. This must happen often.
So I drive home, very confused about what had just transpired. Do I look like I’m not an American citizen? There have been times that my Texan Twang slips out, but that’s the only accent with which I speak!
Once home, I dig up my birth certificate from the file in the back of the filing cabinet that holds all the “important” documents (very grateful that it was a notarized copy!)
I drive back and when I arrive at the DMV for the second time, the lady who had helped me was on break. Doesn’t that figure!
I had to stand in line again.
Take the vision test again.
And answer all the questions again.
I half expected there to be some other strange random question that this lady would ask with a perfectly straight face. Perhaps “what devices in your kitchen do you currently have that can be used to create an explosive?” or “Mrs. Wilson, we see that you recently ordered The Boy in the Stripped Pajamas from Video on Demand. Please explain how this movie aligns with your political views.”
However, the strange Twilight Zone episode moment passed and somehow this second trip to the DMV ended with me having my license renewed.
I’m quite sure that when it arrives, it will have a computer chip imbedded in it that will track my every move.
The only thing that makes this experience worthwhile was the material it gave me for this blog post.