My Monday at the BMV and BIG D

I got my registrations for our two cars in the mail. I carefully removed the folders from the cars and updated the insurance cards. Then, I took the stickers and applied them to the right-hand corner of the license plate with the precision of an engineer and the artistic stroke of a Michelangelo. I walked back into the house with satisfaction, the same satisfaction one enjoys after winning a Facebook debate by unfriending someone.

It was now time to place the registration cards in the folder. I removed the two old registration cards and laid them on the counter. I then lined up the old and new cards in the appropriate folder. After placing the cards in the folders, I securely got rid of the old cards through the offset power office shredder. I picked up the folders to admire my work when suddenly, I heard my mind shouting, “You BIG D” (big dummy).  I had put the old registration in one of the folders and shredded the new one!

So, on a Monday, I headed to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles to get a new registration. While in the car, the radio announcer said this was the anniversary of Billy Ray Cyrus’ recording of Achy Braky Heart from 1992. Well, love it or hate it, it gets you moving and can make you smile. I parked the car and walked into the BMV with my soul still swaying to Achy Braky. I was in a good mood now.

I figured while I am here, I might as well renew my driver’s license, which is due soon. They called my number, and a very small elderly lady took my spot and answered my name. Well, I just stood behind her. The young employee at the window looked at me and frowned, and I read her mind—you are a BIG D, go to the Kiosk and get your number. I replied silently that the lady in front of me stole my number, charged into my line, and violated my space. IT WAS TRIGGERING! I am the victim here. But that young employee looked down the row of employees and said: Hey, could you take this gentleman at your window?

I was shipped down to another window and dumped on an older employee. I attempted to explain that I had gone to the Kiosk and got a number, but a mean old lady violently took my spot. I did not feel I was heard—AT ALL! I explained what happened to my registration and that I also wanted to renew my driver’s license. The duplicate registration was $6. I was no longer in a good mood but in a defensive posture. She asked me if I had lived in Ohio all my life. I replied honestly and said I don’t know yet. She looked at me with that smile that shouted: Well, bless your little heart.

Do you need glasses to drive? I said not yet, let’s see. I pulled the screen close and got in position, but it needed to move forward a bit, and I hit myself in the nose, and my eyes started watering. Oh great, now what? She asked me to read line 5, and I said, I have tears in my eyes.  She told me to back up and realign the machine. I then passed the eye exam with glasses. She took my picture and explained the details of my renewal to me.

I left satisfied that I had accomplished much and redeemed the time by getting my license. Yes, I lost $6, the price of a lunch, but I convinced myself that it was worth it. I also reminded myself of my dad’s sense of humor and longed to tell him the story! He would have had some stories for me.

James D. Allen