I am turning 29 on Monday. After filling out multiple job applications and referring to my driver's license for the numbers, dates, etc they required I glanced at the expiration date: my 29th birthday. FAB-u-LOUS! So I whine and complain about having to go to the DMV; which in most states is Department of Motor Vehicles, and that makes SENSE to me. Everyone has horrible whiny complaint-filled stories of the DMV, right? Last time I went in Massachusetts to switch over my beloved NC license and receive a $100 new Massachusetts one, it was quite quick and pleasant. I was done and on my way in less than 15 minutes! So, I wondered how this adventure would really turn out and put it off for about a week while the Hubbi complained about me not taking initiative and getting it done already.
So, I checked out the address online and didn't notice the name of the department, cause I figured it would be DMV, like OH, MA, and NC has been. Boy was I wrong. While driving to the place my hubbi thought he's seen signs for it before, I come across a new, interesting, weird name: Arizona Department of Transportation Main Office. Isn't that the construction crews' names we see everywhere? Isn't that the department that paves roads, puts those ugly and annoying orange cones up and such? WHY am I turning into this parking lot after first missing it and doing a u-turn at the next available four lane highway place. I drive around find one DOT building and Ah-HA, another DOT building presents itself, it's labeled "Motor Vehicle Division". This looks promising. I grab all the need 3, 405 pieces of paper that states it's my hubbi's vehicle, registered in this state, but we're living here cause he's AD Marine, and we have insurance here, there, and here. I walk into the building, followed closely by another patron of the MVD d'AZDOT. I am asked "can I help you" as if I look lost... and I state "I need a new state DL, er..transferring state DL's" (real smooov). I take some clipboard, receive my number and search for a spot away from people because I am anti-social like that. I find a place to sit, but cannot use the chair back because the person on the opposite row is slouching and their hoodie is covering my seat. I fill out the form, put down the appropriate information, and wait.
CRUUUNCH. What was that? I look down and notice my flip flop has crushed someone's fake nail (or real, idk) that was disposed of on the ground, and almost throw up right there. I look away trying to be distracted by something else when I notice the fellow going to get his picture taken is wearing CURVES shoes. Ya know the kind that Sketchers recently put out to help you tone while you walk? Yes, the fellow is wearing them with his track pants and stained t-shirt.
Once I am sitting for awhile, the number before mine is called. I am relieved thinking I am going to get out of here soon. Then I wait. And I realize they're using a multiple letters and alphabet system and it will probably be awhile longer. No problem, I am sitting near the picture taking desk and it's quite comical. A Name is called and two people get up. Why you ask? Because the person who is getting their license renewed can BARELY walk by themselves! This happens once more, this time an older gentleman. This puzzles me at the time....
So while sitting and waiting, another name is called. This time a Mexican lady gets up and it's her time to take the driving test in AMERICA! The proctor asks if she can understand English, and the answer "NO". Guess what? She still takes her test and is able to drive without knowing English, even though ALL signs are written in English. I can't say that I enjoy that part of our system.
Anyhow, as I was waiting the hoodie offender and mum are talking now. He goes on to talk loud enough so everyone can hear that he went to Army Airborne school, and was deployed all last year, etc etc. They get to talking about their Marine neighbors and He calls them "Devil Douche's", a dig on their Devil Dog name. I just wanted to slap him, but I realized God already has done that as he's in the Army, not the Marines. bahahaah.
Anyhow, it's finally my number called and some little toddler is walking in front of me all.the.way.to.the.desk. Everytime I move to one side to go around, the toddler is there miraculously. I am not sure how that worked, but ugh. I finally get to the desk and get asked "how can I help you?" again. I state my need to transfer DLs from state to state... hand her my MASS DL and Military ID. Wait some five minutes before the lady says "it'll be $25.00" and "the people back home are finally getting things right" She explains that she was born in Springfield, but hasn't been there in a LONG time. I wonder how she realizes I am Republican when I remember filling out the 'register to vote' check mark as well. (If I hadn't I am pretty sure my Grandpa would haunt me forever!). Also I notice that I have been given a number that coordinates to the type of help I got and the language I speak, as well as the color of my skin. How racist?!!
I go and get my picture taken, blah blah, and get my voter registration receipt (yay!). Then I glance at my License... it expires when I am 65 years old. This makes me laugh and then I realize WHY I didn't see many people getting new license's or renewing them. They're all like this, it's not a typo. SO unless you've just moved to AZ, or have new vehicles to register or pass inspection, or suspended license, basically anything that's NEGATIVE (minus new cars) then you don't have to go to the AZDOT d'MVD. What an amazing concept.
So, I am done going to any Department of Motor Anything unless I lose my license...