Driver's License

For the two years that Big Man and I have been living here, we've been carrying New Jersey driver's licenses. When we arrived in 2007, there were so many things to take care of, and there never seemed to be enough time to get everything done, so the driver's licenses kept being put off for another day. We weren't that worried about it, since the Jersey licenses were not set to expire until 2011. (Although once I got a traffic ticket for making a left turn without properly yielding -- long story -- and the young cop who wrote it up said, "I really should give you one for not having a local license, but I'm letting you slide on that."

So in addition to worrying about taking the Louisiana driver's license test -- which we fully expected to fail at least the first time, especially since we kept failing the practice test online -- we were also concerned that there might some kind of penalty or fine for failing to transfer our driver's licenses after so much time had passed. (Catch-22: if you won't go to get your driver's license because you are fretting over them giving you a punishment for not going sooner, you wait even even longer.)

So, we finally steeled ourselves a few Fridays ago and drove to the Driver's License Office that is located under the Mississippi River Bridge. We took numbers and went to sit down to wait, and then we noticed a big sign saying, "We do NOT do transfers of out-of-state licenses at this office." Oh well. We got directions to the correct office and drove in the rain to that address in Harvey, right before the tunnel.


That office had a big sign saying, "No driver's tests in inclement weather." We figured the downpour counted as "inclement weather," but decided to stay and at least get the process going. It was not clear where you should stand, but we figured it out with the help of another hapless citizen there on a similar purpose. (By the way, at both offices, you have to pass through a metal detector before going in -- does this say anything about the state of mind of the folks caught in the bowels of the Louisiana DMV?)

I was ahead of Big Man in the line and was called first to a cubicle. (The man had a plaque on the wall of his cubby that said, "I'll have a decaff mocha latté with vanilla valium and vodka." Well, yeah, and I'll have one too.) He asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted to turn in my Jersey license and get a Louisiana one. he took my Jersey license, glanced at my Louisiana birth certificate, said he didn't need my marriage license (I needed it in Jersey), and looked closely at my insurance papers for the two vehicles. He told me to look into a little device set up at the edge of his desk and read the first line. He typed away into his computer.

Then, he said, amazingly, "Go sit over there, and they'll call your name to get your picture taken. And welcome home." I was astounded. That was it? That was it??? No written test, no nothing?

Meanwhile, the same process had been happening to Big Man a few seats away from me, and we both got up at about the same time to walk over to the waiting area. He looked at me and I looked at him, all those months of worry and anxiety came back to both of us, and all of it absolutely for nothing, and we just fell OUT. We were practically screaming laughing -- they almost had to tell us to shut up. WE got ourselves under control, but every time we even glanced at each other, we fell out all over again. We couldn't believe it.