I hate the DMV.
Is there anyone, other than people who work there, who likes the DMV? Do people who work there even like the DMV?
For those who don't live in the US, the DMV is the Department of Motor Vehicles. It's where you go to get your license to drive.
Everyone I know, or see, around Knoxville is perfectly normal, they regularly groom themselves. They all possess average intelligence. Basically, everyone I come in contact with in this town is a productive member of society.
Then, I go to the DMV.
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| Much like the "Fourth Floor" on Parks and Recreation |
You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.
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| On Parks and Rec, the "Fourth Floor" has the DMV, divorce court, and probation officer (and poisonous popcorn) |
Where do these people, these creatures, come from?? I don't see them in everyday life. Am I in some small bubble of normalcy while the rest of the population lives in a sort of dystopian, alternate-dimension Knoxville?
Anyway, let me share the story of the DMV's latest affront. In 2009, we moved to Knoxville. At that time, I went to the DMV office (eerily similar to every other DMV I've been to) to exchange my Colorado license for a Tennessee license. I walked in at 9:00 AM and I was out of there by dinner time--it was a typical visit to the DMV. They cut up my old license, snapped my picture (the most hideous picture I've ever seen), and I had my new card.
I was a Tennesseean.
A few months go by.
One fine day, I was showing my license to Betsy to prove to her that my license picture was far worse than hers (she agreed), when she happened to notice that they'd misspelled my name.
No, surprisingly they spelled 'Liebenow' correctly. No one ever spells that right. Even I misspell Liebenow at least once a day but the DMV got it right.
They actually got 'Brian' wrong. Nope, they didn't spell it 'Bryan.' That happens fairly often, but they got that right. The state of Tennessee decided to call me 'Brain Liebenow.'
BRAIN.
Betsy and I shared a good laugh about it, but I decide not to get it changed. Nobody ever notices it anyway. I figured it would be a pain in the ass to switch it. Plus, I try to make a habit of spending as little of my life as possible at the DMV. So, I thought, I'll just get it corrected when I renew my license in five years.
Fast forward to the present day.
I get a renewal notice in the mail, so once again, I make the trek to the DMV. I walk through the gates of hell and into their office and low and behold, there is almost no line in front of me. Only one kindly old woman getting her own license renewal. The people behind the counter have smiles on their faces. There's no one in handcuffs over in the corner. No one curled up in the fetal position mumbling profanities. Is my life about to change? Is this a sign that things will get better? Will 2015 be the year I finally get my hoverboard and flying car??
I walk up to the counter with a shy, hopeful grin on my face.
"Hello, I'm just here to get my license renewed," I declare.
"Alright, sir," the man answers kindly.
As though I'd just thought of it, I mention, "Oh, also I need to get an error changed on my name. You guys spelled it 'Brain' last time. Could you please change that to 'Brian?'"
The man gets a crestfallen look on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry sir. We can't change names at this office. You have to go to a state office to do that. The closest one is about 45 minutes away. Do you know where it is?"
My mouth gapes open in surprise. "No, I don't know where it is," I snap.
"Here's the address," he says helpfully. "You'll need to bring your birth certificate with you."
I grow more incredulous. "So you guys made a mistake and spelled my name as 'Brain.' But now you can't just go on your computer, and switch out the 'a' and the 'i' without me producing proof that my parents weren't cruel enough to name me 'Brain?!?"
"Sorry, I'm not allowed to change names here," he repeats. "You should really get that changed though. So....uh...did you still want to renew your license or go and get your name changed?"
You see what's going on here, right? This guy can renew my license, even though he knows my name is 'Brian.' Even though I have IDs indicating that my bank, my health insurance, the University of Tennessee, the Department of Defense, United Airlines, Costco, Target, the Public Library, and the Veterans Administration all agree that I'm not called 'Brain.' The local DMV office can overlook all that evidence and give me a new 'Brain' license because he's not permitted to fix a typo. But if I want to fix THE DMV'S mistake, I have to dig up my birth certificate and drive 45 minutes to wait in line at some other office.
A judge in Tennessee can order that a newborn's name has to be changed from 'Messiah' to 'Martin.' Yet if the family had named him 'Martin' to begin with, but the hospital had mistakenly typed his name as 'Messiah,' it would have taken an actual Messiah to get the kid's name changed back. Yes, I know these two things aren't in any way related but can you see the madness that is bureaucracy???
So that's it. I'm changing my name to 'Brain.' I figure it'll be easier to switch my name to 'Brain' with every other agency in the country--including the IRS--than it would be to get the DMV to fix their typo.
I will only respond to 'Brain' from now on. It's because I'm incredibly smart.
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