It was a time we all dread. The letter in the mail said that I not only had to pay for my driver's license renewal, but I had to visit in person to have my picture taken. Mistake number one was riding my motorcycle to the DMV on West Avenue. Whether you wear a helmet or let your hair blow in the wind, your hair will be not be it's best afterward.
Things started out well. There were only a couple people to wait behind. Once called to the next available person, I was greeted by a cheery worker. The eye exam and paperwork went well. I was told to wait to be called at the sign for photos. An ominous sign of things to come was when I heard someone call Steve. No last name. As I work with several Steves at work, I tell guys to call me by the nickname Grandfathers give all their grandsons, Butch. Thinking that someone that works there was calling to a coworker named Steve, I thought that my last name would be used or at least called out again. What if there were two Steve's waiting for a picture? I soon realized that we all were on a first name basis and my name must have been put to the bottom of the list for being slow to respond.
Certain to not miss my next call to glory, I trotted up to the desk when I heard Steve called again. I was ungraciously ordered to stand on the footprints and look at the stop sign. A nanosecond later the light flashed and the photographer decided that the picture met their standards. If I'm ever pulled over for drunk driving, I'll look exactly like my picture on the license. It will also may my airline travels more interesting when the TSA's do a doubletake while checking my ID..
It would seem that in this digital photograph age, a succession of pictures could be taken and the best selected by the taxpayer. Till that time, the DMV continues to deserve the barbs and jokes directed it's way.
