Dennis McCarthy has the day off. Here is a “Best of Dennis” column “Facing L.A. on foot – It all started with ‘You have a letter from the DMV’” originally published in print on Feb. 2, 2018 in the Los Angeles Daily News.
You know that pang of doubt you get when life throws you a slow, hanging curveball you weren’t expecting? You should hit it out of the park, but still…
“Any 9:45s left in line?” shouted the harried woman behind the Department of Motor Vehicles information/appointment desk being besieged with questions as the clock struck 10.
I raised my hand and started elbowing my way past the 10 o’clock people who reluctantly stepped aside to let the 9:45 guy by. I could sense a bit of hostility in the air.
“You almost missed your appointment time,” said the woman in a tone of voice somewhere between a scold and a cop telling you he’ll give you a break this time.
I felt like George Costanza asking for more bread from the Soup Nazi.
She told me to take a seat and keep checking the board for my number to pop up, then go to window 7 for the eye test and pay the $35 renewal fee.
I took three steps back, thanked her profusely, and followed orders. I needed that soup to get around town.
It seemed like only yesterday that I had been a carefree, happily retired man sitting in the backyard sipping a cup of coffee and studying the racing form when my wife walked out with the mail.
“You have a letter from the DMV,” she said.
No problem. My license was expiring on my birthday and I figured it was just a letter saying I could renew it by mail, like I always did.
Instead, they wanted to see me in the flesh. I had passed into the over-70-year-old danger zone, and had to take a written test.
“What if you flunk?” my wife asked, offering me her usual 100% support. “I’m not driving you around.”
Flunk? Out of the question. I’ve been driving 57 years, I know the rules. At least I think I do. What is it again you can’t do when there’s a broken white line on the highway, and is it a green or white curb that’s a loading zone?
What if she was right? Could I possibly flunk my written test, and be stranded in L.A. without a license to drive? In California, 55% of the people taking the test do flunk it.
To renew your license you have to get 15 or more answers right on an 18 question test. Miss four and you flunk.
That’s not tough to do. I miss four questions from my wife every morning.
So, it came down to either trusting my years of driving experience and winging it, studying the sleep inducing California Drivers Handbook, or buying a cheat sheet.
Being a man of high integrity, I went with the cheat sheet. For $9.95, I got the answers to the most frequently asked questions on the DMV test. I don’t know who put it together, but I think I went to high school with the guy.
So, there I was, doing a little, last minute cramming with my cheat sheet when an old guy my age took a seat next to me and pulled out his cheat sheet.
This was his second try. He only had one more shot left. If he flunked that he’d have to pony up another 35 bucks for three more tries. His wife, who had been driving him around for a month, was out in the parking lot saying a Rosary.
My number popped up on the board, and I wished him luck, thinking maybe I’d put too much trust in this cheat sheet. I walked over to the guy at window 7 and he told me to read the top line on the wall chart, so I did.
“No, the top line,” he said, after I finished. So I read it again.
“No, the top line.”
Finally, he turned and looked at the chart, realizing he was reading from the wrong answer sheet.
“That’ll be $35,” he said, without missing a beat. The guy was a pro.
He sent me across the room to see the woman taking mug shots. Has anyone ever taken a driver’s license picture and said later, “Wow, I look really good.”
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She sent me to a computer to take the test. You can still do it by hand, but it takes longer to grade, prolonging the agony.
The only downside to the computer is you can’t go back and review your answers. You’ve got one shot to get it right.
The first question popped up. It wasn’t one on my cheat sheet. Neither was the second or third. I was flying blind, relying on good, old multiple-choice luck to get me through.
After 18 questions, the computer spit out “Congratulations, you passed!” I wanted to hug it, take it out to dinner.
In the parking lot, I passed my cheat sheet buddy who smiled and gave me the thumbs up. His wife, back in the passenger seat again, was beaming.
“How’d you do?” my wife asked when I got home.
“Aced it,” I said. “I’m good to go for another five years. Let’s celebrate.”
We had soup that night. With extra bread.
Dennis McCarthy’s column runs on Sunday. He can be reached at dmccarthynews@gmail.com.