Thursday, March 12, 2009

Now I get the moans about the DMV.

My first brush with the DMV, much like my first experience with the air-puff glaucoma test, was so positive that I was wondering what all the fuss was about (the glaucoma test, by the way, was yesterday, while having an eye check; I need new glasses, is the verdict). I went in back in November to get a permit (UK equivalent: provisional license) and found it so streamlined that I was prepared to defend the DMV.

Today, though, was less wonderful. First of all, I'd made an appointment... four weeks ago. Yes, there was a month's waiting time on the appointments. Sigh. So, I turned up, reported as ordered, and just before going round to the start point, used the nastiest toilet facility I have ever been in (portaloos at festivals INCLUDED) to offload the calming cup of tea I'd had for lunch, and then joined the line. At this point, the "hurry up and wait" began. We were in said line for, I kid you not, an hour, in full sun. When we eventually reached the front of the line, off I went to take the test. Shortly thereafter, I returned, and was informed of what I needed to get better at (turns, mostly; I'd been a little overcautious on turns, but that was pretty much it for the 7 penalty points I incurred) and was then congratulated.

I am legally allowed to drive in North America. Heck, I'm OK temporarily in Europe as well, as long as it's not a manual gearbox.

Although in the UK, I would be going to put it in gear and opening the door instead. Sorry, family, but I'm a LHD man!


  1. So sorry - my confirmation letters said "periled".
    Would that be you or all the other motorists.

    I'm your Mother and I can say that.

  2. OMG the next lot of letters said "splow".

    Time I shut up!

  3. Except that the next lot said "grapplar".

    Where does this all come from?


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