LancesWorld.com Journal

"Welcome to the DMV," the sign read.

OK, so perhaps no such sign actually existed at the DMV in San Francisco this morning, but it may as well have. I finally decided to get my California Driver License, something which I've been putting off. I should have put it off even longer, though. It was a bureaucratic nightmare.

I got to the DMV just before 9 a.m. I had planned on arriving closer to 8:30 (they opened at 8), but I had a small delay trying to get get money from an ATM... but that's another story. I walked into the building and did a quick scan of my surrounding. It didn't look to bad, and the website had told me that there was only a four minute wait for people without an appointment. I thought I would be in and out in a flash. Oh, how wrong I was.

I first had to stand in the "Start Here" line. This was just the line to actually GET the form I needed to fill out. It was also the line where I got the number that I would from that point forward be known as, G063. "Fill out this form and then go wait in line G," I was told. Alrighty, I though, not a problem. I quickly filled out the form, not wanting my number to be called before I had a completed form. I hurried for no reason. I was waiting and waiting in line G (and by line, I really mean I just sat in a chair waiting for my G number to be called) for about an hour. Finally my number was called, "Now serving number G-0-6-3 at Window 15." As soon as I heard this, I jumped out of my seat and nearly ran to the service window, not wanting my number to be skipped over. Apparently the DMV employee at Window 15 was impatient, because as soon as the first announcement was made, they announced it again. What was I supposed to do, teleport to Window 15?

Arriving at Window 15, I knew what to say, "I'm applying for an original California driver license. I have a license previously issued by the State of Utah." I handed over my Utah license, my U.S. Passport and my Social Security Card. "Sign here," she said, thrusting a form at me. I signed. Click, click, click she went on the computer. "Read me chart A, line 5." she instructed. I did. "Now cover one eye and read chart B line 1," she said. I did. "Now the other eye. Read chart A, line 3." I did. Click, click, click. "That will be $26," she said. I gave her $30, which turned out to be a small problem since she had no $1 bills at her station. So she had to get up and wander around in some mysterious "back room." Finally she returned with some dollar bills, gave me my change and a receipt. Then she gave me some other form and said, "take this to line B to have your photo taken."

So it was to line B that I went. Line B moved much faster than line G, thankfully, and before I knew it I had my photo taken along with my right thumbprint. I ended up having to remove my glasses for the photo because there was too much glare from the flash. Click, click, click. "Sign here," said the photo woman, pointing to one of those silly electronic signing pads. I signed. The woman then printed my picture on a small slip of paper, handed it to me and told me to go wait in line T (the test line).

I wandered over to Line T, picked up my test and then stood in a little testing cubicle and began to take the exam. As someone who has never previously been licensed in the State of California, I had to answer the full 36 question exam, instead of just the first 18. When doing the full test, you are permitted to miss 6 questions and still receive a "passing" grade. I wasn't particularly concerned. Some of the questions on the test are silly. For example, "A blind person is waiting to cross the street at a crosswalk. What do you do? A) Stop 15 feet from the crosswalk and honk you horn until the blind person crosses the street, B) Pull up to the crosswalk and stop so the person can hear your engine, or C) Stop in the crosswalk and tell the blind person to cross." You could get that one correct without ever reading the driver's manual.

Anyhow, I finished the test, and then had to go wait in ANOTHER line to have the test graded. Thankfully there was only one person in front of me, and they finished quickly. The woman took my test and graded it. Whe she found no errors in the first 18 questions, she said, "Oh you take test very well." I thanked her. She turned the test over and graded the back side... still no errors. "You passed 100%," she said, "I am amazed! Are you a student?" I told her I wasn't. "Oh, you are very accurate." I thanked her again. Now came the moment I was dreading - I had to surrender my Utah license. That lovely, laminated piece of paper that looked like a fake ID, with the laminate peeling off from two different corners. She took the ID, and like everyone else who ever looks at it asked me why it was expired. "Turn it over," I repeated like a broken record, "there is an extention sticker on the back." Oh yes, there it was. Then she used a hole punch to invalidate the Utah license and returned it to me along with a "temporary California license." This California license is nothing more than half a letter-sized sheet of paper that essentially says I can drive in California. "Your new license will be mailed to you," I was told. I knew this already, having seen a sign while waiting in line B earlier. "4-6 weeks by mail," the sign had read.

And with that, I left, having only spent an hour and 45 minutes and $26.