Driven to drink

I just got home from the DMV. My license expires Tuesday so I couldn’t put it off much longer. Plus, I still had a Florida license even though I haven’t lived in Florida in about 10 years. I know, I’m an outlaw. A rebel. I live on the edge.

Anyway, this is just one reason why I couldn’t renew online. Truth be told, I – the Internet Reporter – didn’t know you could. But my mother did. And when she asked why I was bothering with the DMV in person, I didn’t know which was more surprising – the fact that the government is technologically savvy enough to allow you to renew online or the fact that my mother knew this was an option and I didn’t.

Turns out I had to go to the office regardless – due to my illegal status and whatnot. So after a lovely lunch with my signif, I trekked down to the DMV.

They’ve got some odd system of letters and numbers, and when you walk in, they hand you a ticket and your estimated wait time. Mine was 1 hour and 11 minutes. All in all, it could have been worse. I did a lot of people watching and waited with pathetic anticipation for my letter/number combo to pop up on the screen. The whole thing did take about an hour and 11 minutes, and I am now the proud owner of a driver’s license with what could be the most bizarre license photo ever. I look possessed. I have this odd blank stare that is probably best described as DMV haze. I’m thinking the woman in charge of the photos could have suggested a retake (Seeing as how she had the tall attractive man before me redo his three times until she got one she liked. I kid you not). But she said nothing, and her nonchalance has left me to figure out what to say when people ask when I joined the cult.

Meanwhile, I’m going to console myself with a dirty martini and taunt the poor souls at the Alaska DMV.

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