The Crutch We Often Forget We Have

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Went to the DMV today to renew my license.  Easy enough process, I made an appointment and went down ten minutes early.  Seems as though I can’t wait to do anything car related.  The woman looked for my appointment and reluctantly gave me a number or so it seemed.  She was shuffling sporadically through her appointment sheets and never seemed to confirm my name.  Whatever, I was in.

About 20 minutes later I waited for number F 021.  They skipped right over it to F 022.  Coincidence?  Eh, I was ten minutes early. She gave me F 024.  However, I did lose my prime end cap seat in the scuffle and re-parked myself next to an older distinguished lady. 

“What are you in for?”  I asked.

“Oh, I’m here for a friend who is taking a driving test to get her license renewed.  She can’t see that well anymore and failed the eye exam.”  

Apparently, if you fail the eye charts you can still prove your worth on the road.  Funny, the lady went on to say she didn’t think her friend should get her license.  She can hardly see she explained. 

“I drove her down here in her car so she could take the test in comfort.  But I always drive when we are together.  If you asked me, they shouldn’t even renew her license.”

Refreshing to hear that one of their own kind was close to throwing her friend under the bus.  But could it be that the DMV was pulling their weight correctly as well?  Having just witnessed on the drive down an old lady driving in the bike lane until the lane ended, I was cautiously optimistic.

“Number F-0-2-4.” 

Crap, that was my new number.  I wished her luck with her friend and got my license and picture.  I was clean shaved and smiled big for the camera.  I mean really, how can you not be happy you get to drive after that story?

The kicker though was in the parking lot, when I left.  I saw, you guessed it, a white Buick Regal pulled up in the handicap.  The instructor was already out and standing right next to me as I sashayed. 

“Did she pass?” I whispered.

I guess I didn’t need to see the instructor’s head shake to know.  The 87 year old lady was getting out of the car visible flustered and disappointed.  It was going to be a whole new world for her.  A little bummed for her, I tip my hat to the DMV.

 

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