The Lawd Sees Me, But I Can’t See the Lawd
For the first time in my life, I let my driver’s license expire.
And hilarity ensues!
How, exactly, does hilarity ensue from letting my license lapse?
Imagine the scene:
A rather large, African-American woman calls me to the counter at the DMV. (I say that not to be racist or offensive, but simply to paint a picture of the scene, which is what I do, being a writer and all. And the disparity between that description, and the general description of myself -rather small and pasty white- is kind of a funny contrast.)
Woman: (surly at first) May I hep you?
Me: Yes ma’am. I need to get my license renewed.
Woman: Fill this out please, and step up to the chart.
Crap. This is always the part I dread. My eyesight is not very good, and I get chart anxiety.
Woman: Read line 2 please.
Me: E, S, O, N… L.
Woman: (after a moment of confusion) I said read line 2, honey.
Me: I just did.
Woman: (after a moment of realization) Oh Lawd, we got a live one here. (She sighs deeply) Honey, ain’t no letters on this chart. It’s numbers. Try again.
Me: (Squinting fiercely) 4, 5, 9, 2… 1.
Woman: I’m gonna pray for you real quick. And then I want you to try again, you hear me?
Me: (taking a deep breath) Okay. 6, 8, 9…
Woman: Ain’t no nines on there.
Me: Ok. 6, 8, zer…
Woman: (quickly) Ain’t no zeroes either.
Me: Ok. 6, 8, fi–
Woman: Ain’t no fives!
Me: fi– I mean, fo–
Woman: Das right!
Me: 4, 3…
Woman: Try again, baby.
Me: How many are there?
Woman: Twelve.
Me: How many have I gotten right?
Woman: Two.
Me: How many do I have to get right?
Woman: All of ’em!
Me: Shit.
Woman: Ain’t no need for all that, now. Just try again. Lord, help us.
Me: 6, 8, 4… (and I now know there are no zeroes, nines, or fives at this point, so I’m randomly guessing) 7, 1…
At this point she stops me. “Honey, do you wear glasses?”
They were on top of my head. “Yes ma’am, but they’re mainly to keep the sun out of my eyes. They don’t help my visual acuity much.”
She looked at me quizzically, then said, “Well, the Lawd’s gonna hep you today. Put your glasses on and try it again.”
I did as she instructed and only did marginally better. She basically gave me all the answers. I may not be able to see worth a shit, but I could read her body language and facial expressions when I made a mistake.
After about 20 minutes of trying to read line 2, she finally passed me. “You know you gonna have a restriction.”
“Hm,” I said, as she completed some paperwork. “I was hoping not to have one anymore.”
She immediately stopped what she was doing and glared at me. “You lucky you gettin’ a license at all!”
“I know I don’t see well, ma’am,” I said, wanting to call her by her name but I couldn’t read her name tag from two feet away. “But I’ve only ever had one accident, and it wasn’t my fault.”
“And that goes to show you, honey,” she said in her stern mama voice, “the Lawd is good.”
I took my paperwork and headed towards the photo station where they would take my new driver’s license picture. “You wear them glasses now when you drivin’,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” I told her as I walked away.
“Uh uh!! I mean, YOU BETTER WEAR THEM GLASSES.”
I nodded and walked on, only to seconds later take an actual decent driver’s license picture. I think I was looking at the camera. I could’ve been looking at a trash can, though. It was hard to tell the difference until I put my glasses on.
susan sistare
April 3, 2014
bad eyesight, DMV, glasses, Hilarity, Lawd, license
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