The DMV Adventure

My 66th birthday heralded the expiration of both my driver's license and my handicapped parking placard.  I had already made the decision to give up driving*, but for several reasons, still preferred a driver's license as identification over a photo ID.  It was also time to face some of the outcomes of my neurological progression and request renewal for a wheelchair, rather than the basic parking placard.  I realize handicapped parking spaces fill up fast**, but wheelchair–specific parking spaces are less likely to be used for non–essential reasons.


I knew that I needed my physician's signature in order to renew the handicapped parking placard and had requested that two months in advance. I thought the renewal process was going to be a simple errand Earl and could do on our way to lunch.
Granted, I was now older, but last time I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles, the staff was extremely relaxed about department regulations. However, the DMV staff member we got was a stickler for rules.  I had checked 'renewal' rather than 'original' in the application box.  She informed us that was against the rules.  I needed a new form.  OK.  An Oregon License was no longer adequate identification. My passport would be required.  OK.

I was having the same visual changes I had experienced two years previous***, but thought I could still meet the minimal DMV criteria.  I didn't.  To make a long story short, the DMV staff member denied my driver's license and handicapped renewal, referring me for a visual evaluation.  OK.  That requirement was reasonable and I already had an appointment for an eye exam.  I just didn't need her bureaucratic attitude.  I recognize that dealing with the public is stressful, but she was pushing all my buttons.  Keeping my 'Elphaba' side in check during our encounter, turned out to be more of a challenge than I thought.  Earl and I ended up going home empty–handed.

My eye exam confirmed that I needed correction (gee, that never occurred to me) and my cataracts were nearly mature enough to warrant surgery in the near future. In the meantime, I got new glasses and returned to the DMV (for the third time), all the rules followed.  Our local DMV isn't usually crowded.  However, we went first thing in the morning on the last day of spring break (duh).  Earl had to get to work and wasn't sure he could wait.  We agreed to take a number, sit down, and see how it went.  The good news, progress was quick and the staff person was very pleasant.  The bad news, I had left the handicapped parking placard application form at home (double–duh).  She did give me a 'Go to the head of the line' pass if I returned that day.  Earl had to go to work and couldn't bring me back, but Sandie could. 
A few of my closest friends

When we returned a few hours later, and stood on the 'Go to the head of the line' spot, I was relieved to see the same pleasant person ready to help me next.  However, seeing my walker, she directed me to another staff person who clearly viewed customer issues as an inconvenient part of her day.  As Sandie started to see me bristle, she brushed my hand with a 'Stay calm, don't snap..' gesture.

Grumpy DMV staff:  You know this new handicapped parking placard expires in 2023.
Tammy: Yes.  I mumbled (sotto voce) to Sandie, "Maybe I'll be dead by then."
Grumpy DMV staff:  What did you say to me?  Her eyes were narrowed and she was spoiling for a fight.
Tammy: I was talking to my friend and I said, 'Maybe I'll be dead by then.'
Grumpy DMV staff:  She laughed and responded, 'Well, we don't give refunds, so you'll just have to hang in there.'
Tammy: OK

The lesson:  Just when you least expect it.  Everyone has a sense of humor, somewhere.


*Previous post: Driving Miss Tammy
**Previous post: There's a scooter in the house, paragraph 5
***Previous post: We Have Contact

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