Take Drivers' Eduction. I can't remember how long the class lasted but it seemed to take forever. In hindsight I'm sure it seemed like even longer for the instructor, particularly the on-the-road (behind-the-wheel) portion of the class. I do remember they best part was going through the Wendy's drive-thru for Frostys.
- Get your Learner's Permit. At age 15 you could go to the DMV, get your eye's checked, take a test and pick up a what was called a Learner's Permit. Basically it was the training wheels version of driving, since a parent or guardian had to be with you any time you were behind the wheel. I remember getting one of these but I can't remember finding anyone crazy enough to get in the passenger's seat. Learner's Permits were valid for a year or until you turned 16 and then you moved up to the big leagues.
- Get your Driver's License. Ah, 16...the most anticipated birthday known to man. You walked into the DMV office, preferably as soon as the doors opened in the morning, and took THE TEST. I waited until after my 17th birthday, something about insurance and heart medication but eventually the day came. I never studied for anything so hard before or hence. You take a sign test (you know identify the red octagon, RR Xing sign, etc) and squinted through a vision test. And then you get in the driver's seat, with a DMV officer riding shotgun. I'm pretty sure this is where the term "riding shotgun" originates because the entire time the office looked like he was going to shoot me.
- You return to the DMV office for the most important part, the ID Photo. My first license had me looking like a cross between a newspaper boy and a convicted felon.
- I reported to the front gate, informed the guard what I wanted AGAIN and answered a couple questions. After warm greetings and pleasantries (we've become close over the last 4 days) I was issued a badge on a handy lanyard, sent through a metal detector, frisked and pointed to the reception area.
- I bypassed the receptionist and headed down a couple flights of stairs to the basement.
- I walked by Mr. Managing Director and we exchanged pleasantries as well, we've also become close, and he walked me to one of his employee's office.
- The man I've dealt with on my previous three visits is off today. This is a good thing because I'm pretty sure he hated my guts. Maybe I reminded him of his ex-brother-in-law or maybe he just didn't like my cologne. Mr. Replacement looked through my stack of papers, asked a couple questions, put a check mark or two on each page, wrote something on one of them, maybe his signature, and sent me back up to the 1st floor.
- In a different reception area. I presented my paperwork to Mr. Chainsmoker (whose desk was right beside a large "No Smoking" sign and was asked my name. Apparently I gave the correct answer because he put down his Marlboro, gave me an index card-sized sheet of paper and told me to go back to the basement.
- Down two flights I went. I passed Mr. Managing Director again and he smiled. I reported back to Mr. Replacement who checked my paperwork again and sent me to another office.
- In this office I met another gentleman, this one with a very kind disposition. Unfortunately it wasn't his office. He was merely passing time, sitting on the desk of the lady that worked there, while she was on her break.
- When she returned, she viewed my papers, typed some stuff into a computer, printed out a couple pages and stapled them to the others and sent me to the Mr. Managing Director's office.
- Unfortunately he was engaged with some other folks so I sat down outside his office and looked through my things. Good thing I did, the previous secretary had misspelled my name twice on her forms.
- I headed back down the hall to her office, showed her the problem and quickly returned to Mr. Managing Director's office, just as the other patrons were leaving.
- My dear friend, Mr. Managing Director, motioned me in, looked through my papers, put check marks in the same exact location he had the first time I was in his office and then smiled and said everything was okayed.
- Up the stairs to reception area number three. I produced my stack to the lady sitting at the desk but was told she was not who I needed to see, he would be back from break in a minute. Seconds later a guy arrived, took my paperwork, asked me my name, typed a few things in his computer, printed out a document and handed it to me, keeping my stack of papers. According to this form I have been approved to make an application for a license, at a different office, in a different city, on a different day.
- I headed out off the building, dropped off my name badge and lanyard to my buddy the security guard, who was genuinely disappointed I won't be back tomorrow, and walked out onto the street.
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