Ditkaless Wonders
Footballguy
My ten years was up and it was time to renew my DL. I venture on over to the nearest DMV. Upon arrival there is a back up to pull into the complex. Two drivers, a middle-aged Asian female and a young Hispanic male, probably in his teens, had an accident and were unwilling to clear the entrance. They were waiting for the Police. I went to the next entrance.
Once parked I get inside. There are approximately 70 people waiting, but with 12 counters it promises to move fairly fast. I am greeted in Spanish. After I respond the greeter switches to English. Apparently I do not speak Spanish with a convincing enough accent and am pegged as an English speaker. Not really surprising since I am so white I look like one of those models of the human body kids use to get that you can see through to the veins and organs. I am translucent white, GM white.
I get in line for my renewal. The only other Anglo in the place is an old guy in front of my in line wearing a ball cap from the U.S.S. Wisconsin. When he shuffles to the counter they ask his age. His response, his D.O.B. is in 1913. The guy did not look a day over 90. At 102 they are going to renew his license with only a vision test, or so it appears. I lose track as I move to the open counter.
When my turn comes I have my expired license and I hand it to the clerk. He asks for a second form of I.D. Credit cards, State Bar card, and City and Police Department picture I.D.'s and badge are not acceptable. They want a passport, a utility bill with my name and address on it, or a check book. I am a little taken aback as what they want are not state issued, other than the passport, and are likely based off of a D.L. anyhow. I am also stunned in that they are processing D.L.'s for illegal aliens with no state issued I.D. at all and no requirement for a second form of I.D. which they do not have anyway. After some discussion they say they can take my vehicle registration.
Out I went to get my vehicle registration. The cops are now in the parking lot trying to decipher what has happened between the two drivers in the earlier accident. The lady is down receiving medical service from Fire/Rescue. They can't speak to her or her husband. It sounds to me like they are speaking Talalog. When the officer hears me opine on that he asks and the husband starts shaking his head up and down. He calls for a translator. The kid is sitting on the curb in cuffs and a hostile crowd is gathering, berating and questioning the cops. I get my vehicle registration and go back inside.
Inside I have lost my place in line, being unprepared as I was. The line moves along and this time I get my temporary card. The new one, with a fresh picture, will be sent to me through the U.S. mail. This surprises me as 10 years ago they produced them on site in about 5 minutes. Either their technology has been moved backward, or it has been centrally located for efficiency. I am skeptical that sending I.D. through the mails is a good idea in this day and age, but that is the system. I guess I hope it arrives without incident. For now, for the first time since I was a kid, I have a temporary license.
Trying to leave the facility there is a large Hispanic male, twenty-something, blocking the doorway. He is leaning out the door to perform a farmer blow on his nose. Apparently doing so inside the facility was not an option. I watch my step and walk to my car after he steps back completely inside.
As I pull out to leave I see the lady being loaded into a paramedic transport van. The kid is in the back of a squad car. Two other drivers, gawking like I am are less aware of their surroundings than am I. They have a nice little fender bender right there. Fortunately they are not blocking my egress.
I'm good and licensed for another 10 years.
Once parked I get inside. There are approximately 70 people waiting, but with 12 counters it promises to move fairly fast. I am greeted in Spanish. After I respond the greeter switches to English. Apparently I do not speak Spanish with a convincing enough accent and am pegged as an English speaker. Not really surprising since I am so white I look like one of those models of the human body kids use to get that you can see through to the veins and organs. I am translucent white, GM white.
I get in line for my renewal. The only other Anglo in the place is an old guy in front of my in line wearing a ball cap from the U.S.S. Wisconsin. When he shuffles to the counter they ask his age. His response, his D.O.B. is in 1913. The guy did not look a day over 90. At 102 they are going to renew his license with only a vision test, or so it appears. I lose track as I move to the open counter.
When my turn comes I have my expired license and I hand it to the clerk. He asks for a second form of I.D. Credit cards, State Bar card, and City and Police Department picture I.D.'s and badge are not acceptable. They want a passport, a utility bill with my name and address on it, or a check book. I am a little taken aback as what they want are not state issued, other than the passport, and are likely based off of a D.L. anyhow. I am also stunned in that they are processing D.L.'s for illegal aliens with no state issued I.D. at all and no requirement for a second form of I.D. which they do not have anyway. After some discussion they say they can take my vehicle registration.
Out I went to get my vehicle registration. The cops are now in the parking lot trying to decipher what has happened between the two drivers in the earlier accident. The lady is down receiving medical service from Fire/Rescue. They can't speak to her or her husband. It sounds to me like they are speaking Talalog. When the officer hears me opine on that he asks and the husband starts shaking his head up and down. He calls for a translator. The kid is sitting on the curb in cuffs and a hostile crowd is gathering, berating and questioning the cops. I get my vehicle registration and go back inside.
Inside I have lost my place in line, being unprepared as I was. The line moves along and this time I get my temporary card. The new one, with a fresh picture, will be sent to me through the U.S. mail. This surprises me as 10 years ago they produced them on site in about 5 minutes. Either their technology has been moved backward, or it has been centrally located for efficiency. I am skeptical that sending I.D. through the mails is a good idea in this day and age, but that is the system. I guess I hope it arrives without incident. For now, for the first time since I was a kid, I have a temporary license.
Trying to leave the facility there is a large Hispanic male, twenty-something, blocking the doorway. He is leaning out the door to perform a farmer blow on his nose. Apparently doing so inside the facility was not an option. I watch my step and walk to my car after he steps back completely inside.
As I pull out to leave I see the lady being loaded into a paramedic transport van. The kid is in the back of a squad car. Two other drivers, gawking like I am are less aware of their surroundings than am I. They have a nice little fender bender right there. Fortunately they are not blocking my egress.
I'm good and licensed for another 10 years.
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