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Why I Love the DMV

Updated on January 12, 2016
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Rosie is a library media specialist. An avid reader and life-long learner, Rosie enjoys sharing her knowledge and expertise in many areas.


It is Time

After a month of putting it off, my 15 year old decided he was ready to get his driver’s permit. He was nervous and excited and had repeatedly taken the online tests until he was making hundreds on the tests, after hearing several stories of failure from neighborhood kids.

Getting to the DMV though is about a 30 minute drive from our house in afternoon traffic, so I told him that Thursday would be a good day. I knew I would be getting off work a little bit early that day because I had training. I picked him up and we were on our way. So exciting! He was taking another online test on his cell phone as we made our way to the wonderful destination of the DMV.

They closed at 5pm so I knew we had plenty of time; it was only 4:15 as we turned into the parking lot. I was happy to see only about 20 cars there. What a relief! I knew from previous visits, the parking lot could easily be full and that would only mean longer lines. We were lucky!

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So Exciting!

As we made our way to the door, I explained how we would need to stand in a line to get a number and then we would wait to be called on. Fortunately the line was short, only about 6 people in front of us. It seemed to take quite a while for one guy to be given his ticket; there was a lot of talking between the attendant and the guy but I wasn’t really listening. I was just glad we had made it there in plenty of time.

We finally reached the sign that said “Line Starts Here” and waited patiently for the person to be helped in front of us. My son was probably feeling a little jittery about that test but he was so ready! It was our turn! “Next! How can I help you?” the lady asked behind the counter. She had white hair and glasses and a bit of a sour face.

“We are here to get a driver’s permit,” I said with a smile, glancing at my son.

Buzz Kill

The white-haired lady turned her head to look at the large digital clock on the wall behind her and said, “It is 4:35. We stop giving tickets out at 4:30.” Her face was stern and unapologetic.

“I didn’t see that on the website. I just looked at it before coming here,” I said a bit shocked.

“Oh it’s there,” she spatted.

“We live 30 minutes from here and it is hard for us to get here by that time, by the time I get off work,” I offered.

“Well if you live 30 minutes from here, then you passed another DMV on the way,” she quickly replied.

“There is not another DMV closer to where we live,” I said.

“Mom, stop, let’s go,” my son pleaded in a very quiet voice.

We walked to the exit door. No one paid attention. As I opened the door to leave I remembered how long we stood in line while the white-haired lady waited on one person.

“We waited in line for more than 5 minutes. That should count,” I said loudly. My son grabbed my hand and I let the door shut.

You just gotta love the DMV.


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