State-sponsored Pilgrimage

Every 8 years in Wisconsin, most adults make a pilgrimage.

Not to vote... the interval is different for that.  Some vote more than that, others vote less. 

Not to the bar.  I said every 8 years, not every night.

No, this is the pilgrimage to the Department of Motor Vehicles to renew the drivers license.  Granted, every driver in every state needs to go down there on a regular basis, but I live in Wisconsin (dammit).

So, I made the trip down this morning to get my drivers license renewed.  I knew it was going to be a blast, but I figured I'd be all right since I had already filled out the paperwork beforehand.  I decided to take Carter with me.  I had promised him most of the day out of daycare (unlike Toliver, who's too little to remember all those promises yet!).

We arrived just before 11 a.m. and I was given number A034.  They were serving A029 at the time, so I figured I was doing okay.  How long could it take to get to A034?

Just long enough to make a 5 year old antsy.

Twenty or so minutes later, just as the number clicked over to A033, Carter said that he needed to use the restroom.  I asked him to wait because we were almost done.  He then announced to the entire building that he had to go now, so I took him in there.

He managed to take just long enough for my number to be called.  Now, these DMV guys don't screw around.  They have a little tag board thing that has the current number on there, and it has a thing like a doorbell attached to it.  If you don't answer immediately, they ding the doorbell and give you a few nanoseconds before they move to the next number.  Sonuva...

So then we started over.  Got a new number, started waiting again.  Just before my number was called, he decided he had to go again.  In no uncertain terms I turned him down.  He was angry, mainly because he has no patience.

You know who else has no patience?  The clerks behind the counter.  For as much as they're making, and as many benefits as they get being state workers, you'd think they'd actually smile a bit.  I mean, I thought I was in the Post Office or something.

The rest of the story is a blur, mainly ticked off DMV workers who were angry that I chose their office to get my license renewed.  But, we ran the gauntlet and managed to survive the ordeal.

I have 8 years to get the hell out of this state.