Trip to driver’s bureau revealing in more ways than one
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 by dgrubaughWith the horror stories I hear about the Secretary of State driver’s license bureaus, I dreaded my trip Saturday to the office in Bethalto.
My license had expired the day before and I put off the trip until it was absolutely necessary, knowing for sure that I was in for a long wait. I signed in at the counter at 8:33 a.m. and walked into an area that was already crammed full of people, despite the fact that the office had opened only 30 minutes before. If I hadn’t spent five minutes lost and circling the grounds at St. Louis Regional Airport, I might have beaten a few of my competitors.
It had been years since my license was actually replaced. The last time, I got a sticker to simply extend my expiration another four years without actually getting a new license. The photo and a bit of the biographical data were way out of date.
Everything I feared about the alleged inefficiencies of the bureau was dispelled pretty quickly, when they called me to the counter to begin the renewal process only minutes after my arrival.
The clerk asked me a list of check-off questions, all of which I responded to in the negative. Until he got to the height and weight part.
“Still 5-feet-11, 190?” he wanted to know.
I responded: “Uh, you might want to add a few pounds to that.”
“It happens,” he said, without glancing up.
I wanted to tell him it was because I was taller, but he’d never have bought it.
We comprised at 210 (all right, more than just a “few” pounds), and he then asked me to take the vision test. I walked over and craned my neck down to peer through a viewing device.
“Read Line 2,” he said.
“G-F-D, uh, C-D-O-Z,” I read off, not knowing for sure if I was getting them all right but satisfied when I was finished. I stood upright.
“Read the rest of it,” he said patiently.
Puzzled, I peered back in and spotted several more letters that I actually didn’t see the first time. This guy should see me on the road, I thought.
The clerk graciously accepted my effort.
“That will be $10 please, cash or check.”
“Should I write it to Secretary of State?” I asked.
“You can just use SOS,” he said.
How appropriate, I thought.
He sent me to the end of the counter to have my picture taken. That part of the process moved quickly, and I was soon out the door and calling my wife to tell her the entire trip had taken only 16 minutes. We were both amazed.
“I can’t believe how much older I look than my last picture,” I told her.
“Well, that’s because you are older,” she responded.
She doesn’t know it but that kind of sympathy will eventually be repaid.





