Turning 40, Part 4: Hangin' at the DMV

I spent my fortieth birthday waiting for this temporary license.

Hey, thanks for staying with me during my four-part "Turning 40" series. Congratulations! You have reached the final installment.

For those of you who missed the other three parts, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?

Just kidding. You can easily catch up. The links are at the bottom of this post.

Seriously though . . . you should try to catch up.

This year, I spent my fortieth birthday at the DMV because I needed to renew my driver's license. In hindsight, it may not have been one my brightest ideas to go on a Monday that also happened to be the first day of summer break for the local school districts.
 
When I arrived, the reader board assured me it was an approximately fifty-five minute wait. I had a ton of Facebook posts and texts to answer since it was, after all, my birthday, and when I finished replying to everyone thirty minutes later, I grabbed a book out of my car.

Another gentleman sitting in the waiting area, leaned over and said to me with an air of confidentiality, “I don’t want to read. I am afraid I might miss my number.”

I looked at my number (230) and up at the projected numbers (148, 149, 150, etc.) and said with resignation, "I think I've got a while."

I did have a difficult time reading though and didn't get very far. I texted my husband, Dan, instead.

Dan didn't commiserate with me. He proceeded to text me information from Google Maps about the best times to visit the DMV.

"This is THE worst time to go. In fact, it looks like it's busier than usual today. Probably all the high school students wanting their driver's licenses," he told me. "Thursday morning would have been the best time. Actually, any day other than today would have been better."

“Thanks," I texted back. "Now you tell me.”

No one goes to the DMV expecting to get in and out quickly. It's like being at the airport. You expect to be there forever.

I waited an hour and a half. I ran into one of my fifth graders and a music teacher friend, and I got to know my fellow DMV prisoners.

I sat next to the woman I had walked in with, and we talked from time to time, mostly about how long we had been there.

"Didn't the screen say it was an approximately fifty-five minute wait?" I said.

"Yes, it did!"

"It's been a lot longer than fifty-five minutes now." 

The guy behind me wearing ear buds and playing on his phone laughed and nodded in agreement.

“Remind me again why I moved to Idaho?” the woman said.

The numbers had been called pretty consistently for the first half-hour, but then it slowed down. I realized several booths were suddenly unmanned.

Lunch hour at the DMV, I thought.

Finally, ninety minutes into my fortieth birthday adventure, my number was called.

I rushed to the desk before they could cancel my number and call someone else's. Having become somewhat of an expert in DMV protocol that morning, I noticed the numbers were only called two or three times, then it was, "Too slow, Joe."

“Good book?” the clerk asked me with a slight grin as I set the book down on the counter.

I told her it was. She told me I wasn't allowed to open my mouth when I smiled in the license photo.

I don't know how to smile without showing teeth. In the picture, my mouth is crooked, and I look like I am swallowing something gross.

There was an awkward pause in our exchange while the clerk waited for my information to register.

"Sooo . . ." she said, "did you make friends with everyone here while you were waiting?”

Renewed. No toothy grin allowed.

Now that you have read and loved part four, feel free to revisit:
Turning 40, Part 1: Dan Is 40 Now
Turning 40, Part 2: #birthdayweekend
Turning 40, Part 3: I Am 40 Now

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