Despite the fiasco with the clerk at the courthouse, my excitement was renewed with the prospect of restoring my driver’s license. As far as I knew everything was in order as my dad and I headed over to the DMV: Payment plan – check, birth record – check, social security card – check. All of which I eagerly presented to greeter at the DMV, who in turn inspected both my paperwork and credentials before issuing me a clipboard with the required form to fill out and number that I was in.
When they finally called my number over an hour later I rushed right on over to the counter and practically threw the slip containing the number at the clerk. Then I quickly gave her the clipboard, as if these actions would actually speed up the process. After a cursory glance, the clerk was satisfied that I had presented her with not only the correct number, but also that I had filled out the form in its entirety. She then proceeded to ask me for my identification. That’s when I hit a snag.
“I’m sorry sir, but a birth record is not an acceptable form of identification,” she said.
Both my dad and I were dumbfounded. We found it hard to believe that a birth record, which was issued by the hospital, was not an acceptable form of identification. I even questioned her about this. “What do you mean it is an unacceptable form of identification? If that’s the case, then why the lady upfront issue me a number and give me a form to fill out?”
“Well sir, she must’ve make a mistake,” she said. “She probably did not realize that you had presented her with a birth record. I’m sorry, but we are unable to accept that as identification. We do however accept birth certificates. If you don’t have a birth certificate with you today, we can accept a state issued I.D. such as a driver’s license along with a your social security card.”
That was the problem. I didn’t have a birth certificate or my old license. I literally had lost both of them awhile back, which I proceed to tell her.
She then went on tell me, “I’m sorry sir, but I cannot process your request to reinstate your license unless you have two forms of acceptable identification with you today.”
Seeing how I wasn’t getting anywhere with her, I finally asked to see the DMV manager who was more than willing to talk with me. She also went on to tell me that it was against their policy to accept birth records as a form of identification. When it was all said and done I was pretty frustrated that I had not only wasted over an hour for nothing, but also there was the fact that I wasn’t getting my license reinstated that day. Sure enough, my frustrations boiled over and I voiced my opinion to my dad as we were exiting the DMV. “You know something, one of these days those people are gonna tick off the wrong person and they are gonna come up here with a gun and shoot this place up.”
My dad, who was somewhat reserved and quiet in nature simply shook his head (just as he had done earlier at the courthouse) as he listened to my audacious comment. Fortunately I was able to go home and order the durn birth certificate and get it fed exed overnight, but that meant I would have to take another day off from work.
Not knowing exactly what time my package would arrive I decided to go to work the next day and had planned on taking the following day off. Unbeknownst to me, while I was at work the FBI showed up at my dad’s house and questioned him about my comment that I had made at the DMV. Apparently the FBI was treating it as a possible threat of domestic terrorism, which no doubt was ironic considering my last name. Luckily, my dad was able to convince the agent that I didn’t make a threat, I simply had voiced my opinion. However, I did benefit from the incident. When I showed up to the DMV the following day I ran into the manager who pretty much gave me preferential treatment by allowing me to forgo the whole number system and go straight to the first available window. Interestingly, one of the clerks who serviced me that day asked, “Aren’t you the guy who threatened to mow us all down with a machine gun the other day.” I just smiled at her and said, “Naw not me, must’ve been someone who looks just like me.”
With all the trouble that I went through you would think that I would go to great lengths to ensure that I maintained my license. Sadly, I didn’t. Two years later my license was resuspended because of my driving habits. Then to add insult to injury, the police confiscated my license after they had ran it and discovered that the DMV had revoked my license. The funny thing is I was given a pink piece of paper by that same officer that detailed not only that the police had confiscated my license, but also supposedly the DMV would accept that particular piece of paperwork as a replacement form of identification.
Once again, I headed back to the DMV. This time there wasn’t a smile on my face.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Next in the series: The DMV Chronicles – Part 3
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David Bomber #1130793
Nottoway Correctional Center
P.O. Box 488
Burkeville, Va. 23922
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