Dennis McCarthy has the day off. Here is a “Best of Dennis” column “Facing L.A. on foot – It all started with ‘You have a letter from the DMV’” originally published in print on Feb. 2, 2018 in the Los Angeles Daily News.
You know that pang of doubt you get when life throws you a slow, hanging curveball you weren’t expecting? You should hit it out of the park, but still…
“Any 9:45s left in line?” shouted the harried woman behind the Department of Motor Vehicles information/appointment desk being besieged with questions as the clock struck 10.
I raised my hand and started elbowing my way past the 10 o’clock people who reluctantly stepped aside to let the 9:45 guy by. I could sense a bit of hostility in the air.
“You almost missed your appointment time,” said the woman in a tone of voice somewhere between a scold and a cop telling you he’ll give you a break this time.
I felt like George Costanza asking for more bread from the Soup Nazi.
She told me to take a seat and keep checking the board for my number to pop up, then go to window 7 for the eye test and pay the $35 renewal fee.
I took three steps back, thanked her profusely, and followed orders. I needed that soup to get around town.
It seemed like only yesterday that I had been a carefree, happily retired man sitting in the backyard sipping a cup of coffee and studying the racing form when my wife walked out with the mail.
“You have a letter from the DMV,” she said.
No problem. My license was expiring on my birthday and I figured it was just a letter saying I could renew it by mail, like I always did.
Instead, they wanted to see me in the flesh. I had passed into the over-70-year-old danger zone, and had to take a written test.
“What if you flunk?” my wife asked, offering me her usual 100% support. “I’m not driving you around.”
Flunk? Out of the question. I’ve been driving 57 years, I know the rules. At least I think I do. What is it again you can’t do when…
Read the full article here
