‘Kidding’ in a world of ‘Adulting’.
I don’t even like the word “Adulting” – it sounds funny, and it also makes it seem like I’m not accepting the fact that I’m a grown-up, or doing things people my age do. If I’m being truthful, I think I’ve done adult-like things for many years.
Afterall, I’ve had a job since I was 16, and have always found more enjoyment in staying in rather than going out. I get joy out of being productive on the weekends, and I feel good about myself for setting the coffee pot each night before bed (sometimes even on the weekends), and I maintain a pretty hefty filing cabinet where I keep bills, taxes, and medical records. I’m an adult!
But, the past three weeks have sent me into a tailspin of responsibility unlike any other, and it’s a world where I definitely don’t fit in.
It started with the sheer fact that my Louisiana inspection sticker was going to expire at the end of August. I’m well-past the point where I should have registered my car in Texas, and gotten an inspection here, but my Louisiana plates don’t expire until October 2017.
But, if I didn’t get a new inspection sticker, I was going to get pulled over, so something had to be done. I looked up inspection stations, wrote down a few addresses, and figured I’d go on my lunch hour one day that week. And then, for whatever reason, I was thinking about my driver’s license. When was the last time I had it renewed?
I reached for my purse, and looked. EXPIRED.
Great. So, I’m living in Texas, driving on an expired out-of-state license. That’s no good.
So, I spent about three hours on a Sunday night sorting through my filing cabinet looking for all of the forms of identification I would need, including but not limited to two bills with my Texas address from within the last 90 days, my passport, my social security card, proof of insurance, and a form I filled out. I piled it all in a file folder, and headed to the DMV around 7 am the next day.
The DMV opens at 7:30, so I really felt like I was ahead of the game, given that it’s less than 10 minutes from my apartment. But when I arrived, the line was from the door, all the way to the street (about two blocks in length). Damn.
So, I got in line and sipped my coffee. A few minutes later, an employee sorted the line according to why people were there. Luckily, the line for a new license was rather short. He told me to get rid of my coffee, so I stuffed it in my bag and went to my waiting area.
I only had to wait about an hour, but once I got to the station, the woman informed me that I couldn’t get a license until I got my car inspected and then registered. Awesome.
So, I went to work, and then headed to the inspection station during my lunch break. The guy at the counter told me it would be a three hour wait. Awesome, but no.
I went back to work and told my boss what was going on, and asked if I could work remotely the following day in order to knock out some of these to-do items (you cannot get an inspection, registration, or a license on the weekend).
So, the next morning, I camped out at the inspection office and worked while my car got inspected. Once it passed, I drove to the registration office in Travis County, which is located next to a senior citizen’s activity center. The building is about as big as a bathroom, and you just go in and pull a number and wait.
My number was 43; they were on #8.
So, I worked until my number was called. When I got to the counter, of course I didn’t have the proper forms, and I needed my insurance company to fax over the declaration page (whatever that is). So, I pulled a new number, filled out my forms, and called my insurance.
When I got back to the counter, my Louisiana insurance didn’t meet the Texas minimum. I had to either call my insurance and up the liability coverage, or switch it to Texas. I stepped outside, called, and made the switch. Then, got the new policy faxed over, and got back in line.
Four hours later +$197 later, I walked out of that office with Texas license plates and a receipt for registration. I went back to work, and was feeling pretty accomplished. All I had left to get was my driver’s license, and everyone said that was the easiest step.
The following week (last week), I left work early to head back to the DMV before they closed. When I arrived and said I needed a license, the guy warned me it would be a three hour wait. So, I worked, and did some reading. About 2.5 hours into my wait, an employee came up and wanted to make sure I had all of the right paperwork.
Passport? Social security card? Two recent bills? Registration? Inspection? Yes, yes, yes! I had everything and I was about to bounce on out of there! Until she took a look at my out-of-state license and saw that it was expired (by six weeks).
“Sorry, we actually can’t help you today, you’ll have to take the written test and the driver’s test in order to get a license, and you can’t take it today because we’re closing.”
She highlighted a sentence on a manila envelope and handed it to me.
Uh, excuse me? I’m 31 years old and I have to retake the driver’s test? As in paralell park and hands at 10 and 2, and the hand-over-hand crossover turn method? What?
I wanted to sell my goddamn car. Who the fuck is Texas, and what the hell am I DOING here? All because I let my license expire (which I know is wrong), now I was having to pay the ultimate price, of not only having to study and take the written exam, but then to take the driver’s test, on top of having to take more time off work to sit in the waiting area (even driver’s exams are first come, first serve).
I went directly home, and got into bed. When was I going to find time to take these tests? It had to be soon, as I didn’t like driving on my expired license (Google told me it could result in an arrest if I got pulled over). What if I didn’t pass?
The same lady who told me this terrible news said they would be open on Labor Day. I thought it was weird, and possibly untrue, although I was too bad to inquire further. So, I spent a portion of my holiday weekend reading the Texas driving manual, and taking practice tests.
I didn’t really think the Driver’s License office would be open on Labor Day, but I couldn’t not go see. So I got up at 6am and made my way there. They were closed, of course.
So, I got up at 5am on Tuesday, made it to the branch by 6, and got in line amongst many 16 year olds hoping to get their licenses, too. As far as I was concerned, we were in this together.
This particular DMV is one of the popular locations in Austin, given that it’s the only ones that take walk-in drive tests. According to my teenage line leaders, the wait to schedule a road test is at least six weeks. The other problem? The online scheduling system doesn’t work; so you still have to show up, and wait in line if you ever want to get behind the wheel.
Some of my line friends had been camped at the DMV since 1 am that morning in hopes to be one of the people to take a road test – they only take the first 20 each day.
Around 6:15 am, a police officer came outside and announced that starting NOW, this location would not accept walk-ins for road tests. You had to schedule an appointment, so if that’s the reason you’re here, leave.
The dreams of many were crushed in that moment, and the sun had yet to even rise.
I wasn’t planning on taking the road test that day, I just wanted to get the written and the vision done, because those were the things I needed to pass in order to even schedule a road test (which apparently wouldn’t happen until December).
So, I stayed, and befriended the two teens in line near me. We still had another hour and change before the doors opened. And we did what anyone does in times like these: we shared our frustrations with the DMV.
The guy beside me had scheduled his road test, so he had an appointment, just not for that day. So, he was going to see if he could take it early. And the girl said, she was in the office on Friday and they didn’t say anything about having to schedule an appointment. There was 15 years between us, but we were equals.
The police officer came out several more times within the hour, demanding that we leave unless we were there for other reasons than a road test. Since most of the line had left (including those that had been there since 1am), that put me very close to the front.
Because of this, I only had to wait a few minutes to get processed – paperwork complete, vision test passed, thumbprints, photo, fees, and signatures. And then, it was time for the written exam, which was a mix of road signs and legal questions (have you ever heard of intoxication manslaughter??).
And then, the woman told me they could probably squeeze me in for a road test. Sweeter words have never been spoken, given that I’d surrendered my Louisiana license so I had nothing to prove myself, and probably shouldn’t be driving.
So, I got processed for the road test and my car got inspected… and then I was assigned someone to ride with me, complete with a clipboard, and we were off. I completed a backup test, the parallel parking, several right and left turns, and a few 4-way stops.
In the end? I passed. “You know how to drive,” said my passenger.
As for my line friends? They both got to take the road test that day. I will probably never know if they passed, but I’ll remember the day I felt 16 again, nervous about the driving test, while simultaneously knowing that the DMV is the place where being an adult totally sucks.
Between taxes, vehicle registration, driver’s licensing, check engine lights, it’s been months of way too much responsibility. And sometimes, I joke that I’m just a teenager still, given my love for Justin Bieber, glitter, and cats – but after all this? Being a kid isn’t so bad. And so, I bought myself a backpack – with a cat on it, and the cat is wearing big pink glasses and mascara. And I wear it to my big girl job, and I’m going to keep doing it.
Because life is about balance and if there’s all these boundaries and rules, where’s room for the fun?
“We ain’t never gettin’ older…” -The Chainsmokers
Posted on September 8, 2016, in The Squeeze and tagged adulting, Austin, blog, blogger, DMV, growing up, Holly A. Phillips, kidding, life, relationships, single childhood, texas, The Bitter Lemon. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.