Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

DMV or jail

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We all know about the inevitable things in life, ‘death and taxes’. There is
also another one on the list if you get from point A to point B in something
other than public transportation, a bicycle or shank’s mare. That is you drive your car/moped/motorcycle. (Grannie Fannie Fenstermacher loves her Harley and has the tats to prove it.)

So that takes us to be at the tender mercy of those great guys and gals at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Here is a big wet one for each and everyone of you because I really don’t need to tick these folks off.

It was my turn in the barrel when my birthday rolled around and I had to renew my license. I did the normal things that we all do when going to the DMV. I did not have my customary cocktail the night before. There is no need to have a raging case of Irish Flu when dealing with the bureaucracy. I ate a light breakfast. I got some reading material. In this case “The Complete Works of Suetonius” in the original Latin and finally checked with the pizza guy to see if he delivered out there.

I got there a few minutes before the opening and there was a line already
forming. I was number twelve or so. A little hint to moms with preschoolers. If you can’t find a babysitter heavily drug the little rugrats. It will be a lot easier for everybody.

I finally got to the check-in station. I showed my old license, my birth
certificate, my discharge papers, my Auburn diploma, my mortgage, a letter of commendation from my fifth grade teacher Sister Mary Deo Grace, photos of the Kilkenny Brothers, and a note from mommy.

In turn I got a stack of forms that required more personal information then they asked for when I got my security clearance from the Army. This is where it is a good idea to bring two or three new pens and a vivid imagination because there is no way you can remember the stuff they want to know. I mean why is name of my first goldfish important? It was Elvis.

So after a couple hours of scribble, scribble, scribble, lie, lie, lie, I was
ready for station two. This is where I caught up on my reading. Finally my
number was called and I walked up to the clerk that was supremely bored. She didn’t even look through my greatest work of fiction. She just gave me a number and told me to sit down.

The final station was where they take your photo and issue the license. I was well into chapter 17 when I got called. I got up, looked into the camera and experienced a flash of light comparable to a supernova explosion. I was blinking for an hour or so.

At last I got my¬† treasured permission. If I ever get pulled over I’m going to
have a problem explaining why I don’t look like Godzilla.

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Written by harmonycounty

December 10, 2015 at 4:42 p12

Posted in Humor

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