...if I never have to go the the DMV again, ever.
So I'm not going to get to angry while I am typing this. I think I can, I think I can.
Here's a brief synopsis of the DMV saga so far. I'm trying to get my Oregon licence and it's been a fiasco. So, I have all my ducks in a row, my mom sent me specific papers from home. I've waited a few weeks to get some specific documents that show my residency here in Oregon, etc. Today is the big day, the day I brave the DMV lines, and take the dreaded written test to show that I do know what I'm doing. I studied up, felt ready, and got up at 6:00a.m. to be there right @ 7:30a.m. when they open.
So I'm standing outside the doors in the DMV "preline" (the line that forms before the bloody place even opens). What is crazy about this line is the there are no numbers to take to assure your place in it. And, you always get that one person who stands to the side of the line, carefully planning how they will make their "slip" into the line while attempting to be completely ignorant to the fact that an unofficial "preline" has formed.
So there I was entering the "preline" and truth be told I dominated it. See I got there early enough that it was just me and the good 'ol boys out and about in South Salem. Yeah, men who could have been my grandfather and looked at me like "I gotta come up with some dirty old man line to use on the blond girl, she might be into me." So the off hand comments began, and I decided to use the situation to my advantage. I proceeded to the front of the "preline" line.
Note: Being the FemaNazi that I am I would typical disagree with this type of behavior, putting up with comments and the such to get your way. But...I have decided that all bets are off when it comes to the DMV, it's a jungle out there my friends, a dog-eat-dog world and I'm sure as heck not going to be down wind from a bunch of stale cologne at the DMV.
So the doors open, I've got my little file folder of all my appropriate documents. I'm feeling good, looking good, which is important because I look about 18 and get carded all the time, so lots of peeps see my licence, I wanna be looking good.
My number is called and I approach the desk. After a bit of friendly banter I find out that all the info I was given the first time I came to the DMV was wrong. I don't have the right paperwork. I can't get my licence or even take the test today. I immediately loose it. I state my case. She won't help me. Yeah, she. See now I would give anything to be back in the "preline" to use to my advantage just the mere fact that I am a women.
Here's the thing that really got me. She treats me like an idiot, the whole time, telling me what a utility bill is, etc. And then she looked at my application. There was a box to fill in with how long you have been driving. This morning I wrote 11 years, and almost fell over. I've been driving for 11 years...proves my point...I am getting old. Anywho, she looks at the application and asks me,
"Are you sure you have been driving 11 years?"
Me:"Um, yeah, I turned 27 on Friday, got my licence when I was 16, pretty sure."
Her:"Oh....Ok."
Me:"Well, you have my Washington licence in your hand there and it has my birthday on it."
Her:"Right...." (with a questioning look, like I'm a minor trying to buy beer and if she can bust me she would be some sort of hero)
So not only is she being a jerk but now she is questioning my age/math skills, and we all know I'm sensitive about both.
So if I'm not already upset enough, I start to cry...yeah in the DMV. Call it lack of sleep, call it stress, call it what you will...I lost it. You should have seen the old men's faces on my way out.
