The One Place in the South where You Can't Linedance

After work yesterday, I ventured over to the closest DMV office to obtain a TN driver's license. I never thought I'd see the day it was quick, easy, and painless (enjoyable, even) to go to the DMV.

I recall waiting around the DMV office in NJ. In NM, you not only had to bring a book to read in line, it needed to be an encyclopedia -- and that was just to wait in line to get a number! (See also my 8/14/08 post "Because, you know, we don't wait in line enough already.") I think I'd prefer dental work over the NM DMV. In The Noog, it's vastly different.

First off, you are seen immediately by a person as you walk in the building. (Actually, I waited about a minute while the woman -- not a line of people -- ahead of me was helped.) The man at the window photocopied my documentation, paper clipped it to the necessary form, instructed me which parts of the form to complete, and gave me my number.

Second, you sit in a waiting area with more chairs than people (I wish I had a camera with me) and complete the form. As soon as I completed the form and put my pen into my shirt pocket, my number was called!

Third, the woman behind the counter (or man, depending on who calls you) will be friendly. She will smile. She will call you "young man" even though she's not much older than you. (I presume she will call you "young woman" if the gender is appropriate.) She will completely miss a joke pointed at you (if you're wearing the school work shirt I was) by the assistant next to her. She will speak to you politely and use a volume and tone of voice that is entirely intelligible. She will tell you an astoundingly affordable price for your license.

Fourth, you barely sit down to wait for your photo when a different woman finishes handing over the new license to the person before you and takes your photo. (I think I held my smile longer than I waited.) Then you don't bother opening your book because the guy who joked before makes a funny gesture to make the next person photographed smile, and -- Voila! -- your license is ready!

Fifth, you drive up the street (practically next door) to celebrate the occasion at Tubby's. (But, to preserve the sanctity of Cheesesteak Friday, you order a burger and jalapeno poppers instead. You'll get your cheesesteak tomorrow, after all.)

Sixth, you're smiling. You're smiling because you're going to get a good, tasty dinner. You're smiling because getting your license was a lot easier than you expected. You're abso-frickin-lutely beaming because the entire process, from parking in the lot to reentering your car, took less than half an hour!

I think the only downside is the license picture itself. Whenever I see a picture of myself nowadays, I am disappointed that I look so old. Then I think I look like my dad. Then I'm disappointed because it's not a bad thing that I look like my dad.