DMV Bitches

I finally sucked it up and got my New York drivers license yesterday.  Silly as it sounds, I held back tears while I made the drive to the DMV, feeling pathetic and homeless as I drove the unfamiliar terrain, perking up only when I passed an Amish buggy on the highway.  (Seriously... never gets old.)  


(Sidebar:  It took me about 10 minutes of driving down the same road, back and forth past the building where the DMV was supposed to be, until I finally figured out that The Department Of Human Resources is the DMV.  Come ON, New York... Why must you work so hard to piss me off?)


After virtually no waiting (I know, right?) I approached the DMV person (Teller?  Checker?  Cashier?  They're behind a window and take money... WTF are they called?) and informed her I needed to get my NY driver's license.


Her:  "Have you ever had a license in New York before?"


Me:  "No."


Her:  *looking at me in disbelief*  "Never?"


Me:  "Ummm, no?  Is that a problem?"


Her:  "Well, you need to schedule an appointment and take the test..."


Me:  "I just moved here from California.  I need to get a New York driver's license.  I didn't say I needed to get A driver's license.  I just need it to be a NEW YORK license,"


Her: *for some reason immediately becoming pissy*  "Do you have your birth certificate and 600 pieces of ID?"  


(Okay, so she didn't ask for 600, but OMG... I needed my birth certificate, my CA license, my SS card, two credit cards with my name on them, a bank statement with my name on it, and a utility bill with my name on it.  Trust me, people. I don't want to live here that badly.  It's a good thing I do my research and came prepared.)


Me:  *as I emptied out my wallet and handed her everything in it*  "Anything else?  First born son?  Right arm?  A mention in my will?"


Her:  *ignoring me and not even slightly amused*


Bitch.


Forty-five freaking minutes later, I was eye-tested, fingerprinted, signatured, and photographed.  When she handed me back all of my forms of identification, something was missing.


Me:  "Can I have my CA driver's license back?"


Her:  *not even looking at me*  "Nope."


Me:  "Why not?"


Her:  "Because we have to confiscate them."


Me:  "And do what with them?"


Her:  "Turn them over."


Me:  "That's dumb.  Like what, it's gonna be reissued?"


Her:  *staring me down*


Me:  *persistent as hell*  "How about you just punch a hole in it or write "not valid" on it?


Her:  "No."


Me:  


Her:


Me:  "Can I keep my CA license plate on the front of my car and just put the New York plate on the back?"


Her:  *looking like she wanted me dead*  "No."


Me:  "Can I get a vanity plate and just have them put CALIFORNIA on the New York plate?"


Her:


Me:


Her:  


Me:  


Fine.  I left, feeling robbed of the essence of my California-ness.


I'm pretty sure that when a bird flew into my windshield and died while I was driving home, it was an OMEN.  


Of what, I have no idea... but I'll bet it's BAD.


They should have given me back my license, yo.