I have been living during the past six months...as a criminal.
And I didn't even know it. If I had known it, I could've acted tougher...like Tony Soprano or a Hell's Angel or something. I could've gotten myself a tattoo and started saying "fuggeddaboudit."
Who knows how long my life of crime might've lasted, if I hadn't been caught red-handed at the bank this morning while we were signing some family paperwork in front of the notary public.
There it was. In black and white. (Along with another blatant lie that involved my weight, but who doesn't lie about that. Really.)
My driver's license had expired. On my birthday. Last year.
I laughed. Tim laughed. The notary public laughed as she said, "Oh wow. I bet you're going to have to take the driving test."
Aaaaaagh!!!!!
It's bad enough to go to the DMV when all you have to do is read the eye chart and get another monstrously bad picture of yourself taken that must serve as your primary form of ID for the next four years (or more?). There I was, showing the clerk the proof of my criminality, filling out forms, waiting for my number to be called -- 516. I could just imagine it printed beneath my booking photo. Do I look better in black-and-white stripes or prison orange? They'd haul me off to the pokey like Paris after a weekend bender.
An hour later, I was summoned. I successfully read whatever lines of letters necessary to pass the eye exam, then the DMV lady ushered me to a computer. Aha, the written exam! I'm an intelligent woman. I graduated magna cum laude. I've been driving almost 20 years. No problem!
In Iowa, they call it a "Knowledge Test." I call it the "shit-I-look-up-if-I-ever-happen-to-need-it" test. And it has nothing to do with proving I know how to safely operate a motor vehicle. (And I'm sure you see where this is going.)
For example:
Do you know how much it costs per vehicle to replace lost license plates?
Do you know from how many feet away your car horn must be able to be heard clearly?
Do you know what hours "your" school license allows you to drive to and from school?
I completed the 35 questions, the computer thought for a moment, then displayed in a big banner at the top of the screen: You've FAILED.
I gasped. I jumped out of the chair. I ran over to the desk. I sputtered, "Whawhawha, what do I do? Can I take it again?"
Then she bellows toward the packed room of pimply faced teens who'd just passed their exams and were awaiting the photo machine, "You can only take it once a day. Come back tomorrow between 8 and noon." She handed back my paperwork and my useless license, with a pitying look and added, "It'll be OK."
I woke up this morning , happy, confident, ready for a fun weekend.
A few short hours later, I'm a criminal, a failure, and a repeat offender -- because I kept on driving through the rest of my errands. I did have the Iowa Driver's Manual (all 72 freaking pages of it) sitting on the passenger's seat, ready to plead my case to any officer who might pull me over. The way my luck is going, all bets are off.
And what of the driving test the notary public mentioned? I didn't even ask. I don't want to know.
I've had enough "Knowledge" for one day.
And I didn't even know it. If I had known it, I could've acted tougher...like Tony Soprano or a Hell's Angel or something. I could've gotten myself a tattoo and started saying "fuggeddaboudit."
Who knows how long my life of crime might've lasted, if I hadn't been caught red-handed at the bank this morning while we were signing some family paperwork in front of the notary public.
There it was. In black and white. (Along with another blatant lie that involved my weight, but who doesn't lie about that. Really.)
My driver's license had expired. On my birthday. Last year.
I laughed. Tim laughed. The notary public laughed as she said, "Oh wow. I bet you're going to have to take the driving test."
Aaaaaagh!!!!!
It's bad enough to go to the DMV when all you have to do is read the eye chart and get another monstrously bad picture of yourself taken that must serve as your primary form of ID for the next four years (or more?). There I was, showing the clerk the proof of my criminality, filling out forms, waiting for my number to be called -- 516. I could just imagine it printed beneath my booking photo. Do I look better in black-and-white stripes or prison orange? They'd haul me off to the pokey like Paris after a weekend bender.
An hour later, I was summoned. I successfully read whatever lines of letters necessary to pass the eye exam, then the DMV lady ushered me to a computer. Aha, the written exam! I'm an intelligent woman. I graduated magna cum laude. I've been driving almost 20 years. No problem!
In Iowa, they call it a "Knowledge Test." I call it the "shit-I-look-up-if-I-ever-happen-to-need-it" test. And it has nothing to do with proving I know how to safely operate a motor vehicle. (And I'm sure you see where this is going.)
For example:
Do you know how much it costs per vehicle to replace lost license plates?
Do you know from how many feet away your car horn must be able to be heard clearly?
Do you know what hours "your" school license allows you to drive to and from school?
I completed the 35 questions, the computer thought for a moment, then displayed in a big banner at the top of the screen: You've FAILED.
I gasped. I jumped out of the chair. I ran over to the desk. I sputtered, "Whawhawha, what do I do? Can I take it again?"
Then she bellows toward the packed room of pimply faced teens who'd just passed their exams and were awaiting the photo machine, "You can only take it once a day. Come back tomorrow between 8 and noon." She handed back my paperwork and my useless license, with a pitying look and added, "It'll be OK."
I woke up this morning , happy, confident, ready for a fun weekend.
A few short hours later, I'm a criminal, a failure, and a repeat offender -- because I kept on driving through the rest of my errands. I did have the Iowa Driver's Manual (all 72 freaking pages of it) sitting on the passenger's seat, ready to plead my case to any officer who might pull me over. The way my luck is going, all bets are off.
And what of the driving test the notary public mentioned? I didn't even ask. I don't want to know.
I've had enough "Knowledge" for one day.
Comments
What drunk-ass idiot came up with those questions???
I am frustrated on your behalf, too. That is totally retarded.