annoying peeps at the DMV because line waiting is not fun enough

Lad and I hopped out of the car almost an hour before the DMV opened (in August 2019), and got in line.  There were 2 people ahead of us depending on how you count.  The very first people in line included a man and a woman and two teenagers.  I was not sure if family members were there to cheer on someone or if they were all taking a driving test or what. 

A man working for the DMV circulated out front before they unlocked the doors and asked people what they were in line for.  He instructed people to get in one line or the other.  Based on his conversation with the group at the front of the line, I decided that the teens were there to translate for their relatives.  I hoped that meant only two of them were technically ahead of us. 

The DMV worker took all the elderly people out of line and put them in the front of the line ahead of us.  I kept glancing at my watch.  Tank’s ride was coming to our house to drive him to the high school golf outing at 9:30 am and I hoped we would be back in time.  There were other golfers that could only play if a spot opened up.  Tank had not given up his spot to golf because he was hoping to be back in time.  It would be rude to keep the spot if he could not use it.

The dad directly in front of us told the DMV worker that he was just holding a spot in line for Dearest, his daughter, while she went for breakfast.  Then the DMV guy turned to me and ran thru a checklist, did I have my proof of car insurance?  I did not, and I jogged back to the car to grab it.  When I got back in line, Mr. Hold-the-Spot-for-Dearest -Daughter called his wife and daughter and told them to bring the proof of insurance with them.  When wife-daughter duo showed up, I decided after a few short minutes that I wanted to slap Dearest in the face.  That might have cost us our spot in line, so instead I just bit my lower lip.  

Dearest walked up after breakfast and scolded her dad for not having much gas in the car.  He shrugged and said there was enough time, they (wife-daughter duo) could go gas it up.  ‘No, YOU go gas it up!’ The duo shrieked at him.  He ran off to gas up the car and I cringed.

While we stood there, they watched him drive away.  ‘Why are the headlights of my car on?’ Dearest whined to her mom.  ‘They are always on,’ her mom pointed out.  Then the girl insisted to her mom that her parents agree to pay for her gas just like they had paid for her older brother’s gas.  

I reminded myself that if I smacked her my carefully organized paperwork might go flying.  I was standing with a stressed out, hard working kid who doesn’t get things handed to him (including confidence in passing the driving test) and Dearest was standing there without a care in the world.  She already owned her own car (SUV) and had the resources of two parents doting on her.  They waited in line with her, ran for her breakfast, and gassed up her car.  The entitlement was so thick I could have cut it with the lasers shooting out of my eyes.  Tank was too nervous to notice.  

Finally the door opened and we moved inside the building.  When it was our turn to step up to the window, I handed the man our paperwork.  He typed Tank’s permit number into his computer and uttered the unthinkable:  

‘According to our records, he has not completed drivers’ education and he cannot get his license today.’  

I have no photos of this adventure. 
 Imagine me with a red 
face and a bubble over my
 head with "*&^#!@#&*!"
escaping my wide open screaming mouth.  I think
 that is all the visual you need.  Instead I will share
this photo I snapped in the parking lot the
day I brought Eddie to school - also in August.
 This is a California
 plate in a college lot in Indiana.
 How crazy is that?  As a water polo 
loving mom, I love this plate.
 It is somewhat related to this
story:  car, license plate. 

 But, but . . . !  I shuffled thru my papers and pulled out the passing-grade sheet.  ‘Could this be the reason?’ 

The man just shook his head.  ‘I have no idea, you can step aside and call his drivers’ ed school and ask them.  You don’t have to get back in line, if they straighten it out just come back up here and talk to me.’

I fumbled with my phone until I got the 1-800 # for Top Driver.  As it rang, I saw Dearest bop over to pose for her photograph.  I clenched my jaw.  How awesome would it have been if little Miss Resources had messed up HER paperwork so that we could see her stand to the side pouting while her folks tried to sort out the issue?  

Tank was texting Mr. Frank.  A girl answered the phone and told me after looking up Tank’s file, that he was indeed not eligible because of the missing good grades sheet.  He was supposed to hand it in to Mr. Frank during class so they could record it.  Bringing it to the DMV did no good.  

In this high tech world, I asked her if I could take a picture of it and send it to her.  Nope.  Had to be emailed and it would take awhile, as in possibly days, before it showed up on his account.  Nooooooo!!!!