Helpful Hints At The DMV

Published in the Desert Valley Times
August 9, 2005

Her last words as I left her desk are still ringing in my ears.
“I don’t want to see anything about the DMV in your paper next week.”
I get a lot of that these days.
In fact, if I heeded those words every time I heard them, this space in your newspaper would be filled regularly with badly-drawn pictures of flowers done in crayon.
Or another ad.
Fortunately, I’m hard headed.
I made my annual pilgrimage to the local DMV office last week.
It’s a trip that rivals trips to the dentist and regular proctology exams as less-favored destinations.
But bashing the Department of Motor Vehicles is almost cliché, like shooting over a baited field.
Instead, I’m going to offer a few tips for your next trip to this hallowed state agency as a public service.
Before I begin, I just wanted to acknowledge that the lady who helped me last week is terrific.
In fact, the entire staff at our local office seems to be among the most competent and friendly in the entire organization.
And I’m not saying that just because I don’t want my driver’s license number to end up on some website with a flashing banner that says “Steal this guy’s identity for fun and profit.”
They really are helpful and capable.
Unfortunately, even really good sailors occasionally find themselves on Russian mini-subs at the bottom of the ocean.
Now for the helpful hints.
First, bring a book.
I would recommend “War and Peace,” or a similarly lengthy tome.
If you can’t read, bring lots of picture books.
(Although, the inability to read might pose a problem when you try to take that ever-important license exam.)
If someone in a hat and trench coat comes up to you in the DMV parking lot and whispers “I’ve got number 23,” pay whatever he asks.
Scalped numbers may be the only way you can get in and out of the place before your toddlers graduate from college.
Speaking of toddlers, please leave your small, crying, running, screaming children at home.
If, as I suspect, you can’t beg or con anyone into watching your little demons at home, try bringing along some items to keep them occupied and quiet.
Narcotics and a gag are perfectly acceptable.
If you have more than one, I would recommend seating them in different areas.
Maybe Logandale and Scenic.
Next, and I say this as respectfully and lovingly as I can, please shower or bathe before showing up.
Ever taken a whiff of three dozen sardines jammed into a can after being left open in the desert for a few days?
I know the French consider it de rigeur, but in a confined space like the DMV waiting area, yesterday’s manure-moving project isn’t going to make you popular.
Another suggestion is to make sure you bring plenty of money.
As a rule of thumb, bring as much as you think you’re going to need, then bring more.
You have a better chance of escaping the dollar slots section of the Eureka with your wallet intact than the DMV tag renewal process.
For those who don’t know, there is no grace period when your tags expire.
I thought the state would be understanding, since I’ve been busy covering flag football games, attending water board meetings, and being broke.
The punishment for being five days late on my tags cost more than some peoples’ divorces.
If you happen to see me at the I-15 exit with a cup and a sign that says “Will write for tag money,” please be kind.
And finally, be nice to the good folks working behind the DMV counter.
It wasn’t their idea to fine you $250 because the dog ate your insurance card.
Your anger should be directed at the yahoos in Carson City who passed such idiotic laws.
And if you can manage to get your car registered, get your tags renewed, take your driving exam, pass your road test, get your photo taken, and get your driver’s license issued, all in this lifetime, I would recommend you drive straight to Carson City and tell them about your anger.
Just be sure to bring along a valid I.D.