Member-only story
Let’s be REAL
Vanity Thy Name is Carol
Adventures at the Department of Motor Vehicles for a REAL ID
With the number of silly things I do, and the predicaments I find, or put, myself in, I could be a slap-stick actor in a sit-com.
The latest are my shenanigans at the Department of Motor Vehicles, or as they call it here in New Mexico, the Motor Vehicle Department. Don’t ask me why.
Okay, you can ask. Santa Fe is called The City Different. I guess that means everything is different, including official names. And that’s not just when they’re in Spanish or Dinè.
When I moved here, I misplaced my Social Security card and my passport. That gives you an idea of my general lack of organization and typical screw-ups. No one who knows me was the least bit surprised.
I’m not planning on leaving the country soon — although I’m prepared to at any minute — so I wasn’t worried about the passport. Yet.
It had to be here SOMEWHERE.
I turned over every stone — literally, because New Mexico is very rocky — my back yard is all rocks, which make baby rocks which become dust which makes it’s way into my house — looking for my passport and the Social Security card.
