BMV does not stand for Bowel Movements Vary-or does it?

I’ve heard that going to the Department (or Bureau) (or insane asylum) of motor vehicles is rarely a fun trip. I’m not sure why people think that. I went down the other day to get my new license and had a blast. Maybe it depends on what size city you live in.

My city is “almost large”. Well, ok, it’s a town. Well, fine then, it’s probably not close to large. We don’t quite have 1,000 people; but it’s large to me. Especially when we have a parade. Half the people are in the parade and half the people watch. We switch out twice a year so everyone gets a chance to ride in the fire truck. We’re big that way.

Our DMV is actually called the BMV. I thought, when I first moved here, that the BMV was where bowel movements varied, but I was wrong. The bowel movements were always the same.

I have been in Indiana over a year so it was time to get an Indiana driver’s license. Don’t judge me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay. I’m sure if I got pulled over the kind policeman would understand. “Lack of correct driver’s license due to indecision”; I’m sure there’s a warning card for that.

Once I figured out that the place where they use the bathroom regularly was also the place where people got their driver’s license, I knew the difficult stuff was behind me.

I walked up, sat down and smiled. The lady smiled back and pointed to some tags with numbers on them. They were really cool looking tags; I made sure to tell her so. I’ve heard people can become frustrated with workers at the driver’s license place, and I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t one of those types of people! She gave me a tag with a number on it. I thanked her politely. She stared at me. I stared back. I wasn’t sure what her angle was; I had already thanked her for the souvenir.

Finally she pointed to the chairs behind me and said, “Please take a chair.” I said, “Thank you, but I already have a tag, to take a chair as well seems greedy.” She started scowling so I said, “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll take the chair if you really want me too, but can I leave it where it is until after I get my new license?” Her face started turning red, and I think I saw a little steam came out of her ears.

I backed away quietly and sat down across the room. I’m still not sure what was wrong with her, but I knew I didn’t want to be in range when her eyeballs popped out!

After awhile, awhile being several days, someone called out a number that sounded familiar. I brushed the cobwebs off of myself and looked down at the tag. It was the same number! I walked up to the lady at the counter and held out the ticket. As I suspected, she was still mad and wanted her souvenir back. I gladly handed it over, no keepsake was worth someone being mad, also, it was kind of dirty where I’d forgotten it wasn’t a Kleenex and sneezed into it earlier the day before. Lack of food can do that to a person. * Note to self, next time bring crackers, and a box of tissues.

The lady apparently couldn’t tell I used it as a tissue as she took it and put it in a tub of other tags she was collecting. I’m not sure why she gave it to me in the first place if she was collecting them.

The nice lady then asked how she could help me. I ditched my earlier thought of getting a license to a new, more pressing matter; I begged for some food and a bathroom. Lucky for me that had port-a-potties right there at the desk. I could do my business while I did my business. They also had snacks for sale. A candy bar was only thirty dollars. This was, of course, a bargain for a starving woman. And yes, I was still having fun.

I explained that I had decided to stay in Indiana, and therefore needed an Indiana driver’s license. I had all the documents I needed, my birth certificate, my social security card, and my old driver’s license. “I’m sorry, Miss,” she informed me, “but you’ll need your marriage license.” Aha! I was ready and whipped out that baby! “No, you’ve been married once before, we need that marriage license.” Do what?

Apparently, due to the terrorist threat that I posed to the citizens of my town, I needed a paper trail with my name on it. I should have just changed my name to Bearsnot like I had wanted to years before, and this would all be a moot point.

So, now I have to track down my marriage license. I told her I had a small problem with that. “I don’t remember where I got married the first time, “ I said in a small voice. Then I started laughing. That’s funny. I really couldn’t remember where I got married. I knew the approximate geographic location, but I couldn’t really narrow it down.

Needless to say, I still have a North Carolina driver’s license. I’ve got a year until it expires to track down my marriage certificate. Yep. I don’t care what anyone else says, the bowel movement people are a ton of fun!