Monday, January 3, 2011
♫ She's in the Jail House Now...♫
Last Thursday, Mims and I are driving to Mt Pleasant. To pick up Zach from basketball practice. We're chitter chattering back and forth about one thing or another. The prior week, both of my parents had birthdays. And had spent another whole day of that week, together, getting their driver's license renewed. For about five hours, they sat, and waited for their turn, to be legal. One word leads to another and Mims begins to question my license. My license and it's validity. I tell him he's nuts. He says I might better check it. I do. Or he does, I don't have my glasses on. I'm blind as a bat. But I'm not driving, it didn't matter. So, he takes my license and bellows out, because that's his normal level of most conversation. Because he's deaf, so he talks louder, so I can hear. He bellows out, that my license has expired. And continues to rant about it being expired, how long I've been riding around that way, and that I am surely, going to jail. I snatch it back from him. But I can't see it. Because I am blind..as a bat. I ask him really, really it's expired? He says yes, and I take his word for it. I never look at it again. Mistake number one.
Weekend comes, I begin to look for everything I need to get my license renewed. Which is every single piece of viable information that could ever possibly relate to me. As a human being. According to the new state laws in Florida, I must have:
1. A certified birth certificate
2. My social security card
3. My marrige license
4. My divorce papers
5. A recent bill that has my name and address on it.
I have everything but..my certified birth certificate. Now, to say I have everything else sounds very calm doesn't it? Clean and simple. Folks, it was everything BUT...calm, clean, OR simple. It was complete and utter chaos. I turned this house upside DOWN looking for all the stuff I KNEW I HAD. Because NONE of it was where I thought it was. NONE OF IT.
Now, let me explain something to you. This will make everything oh so crystal clear. I come from a long line of dramatic people. People who can make the smallest incident appear as if the world is coming to an end at any moment. My family is full of professionals. Not a fake or phony amongst us. Therefore, I am a thoroughbred. Pure, quality drama runs through my veins. I turned this dang house UPSIDE DOWN. Twice. But the thing is, I cannot only involve myself in this drama. I can not feel completely satisfied until I have engaged every single person I know into my drama of the moment. When it begins, and there are always signs....the ground begins to rumble as my voice takes on a strange octave. The walls begin to appear as if they are trembling. And the biggest sign of them all, everyone within sight of me...scatters. Far and wide. People stop answering their phones. They are locking doors and putting furniture in front of them....just in case. Not to mention, half the weekend, I ranted and raved on Face Book about all the injustices of the legal system. What is required to simply drive a vehicle in the United States of America. I have told everyone who will listen how disgusted I am for my integrity to be questioned.
So, the house is no longer recognizable, but I have found all of the documents but one. Life is glorious. But, how am I going to get the last one. The birth certificate. I start texting one of my very best friends. Yes, I have friends. Stacey saves my life once again. She not only tells me how, she sends the link to my email address. What a pal she is...she did everything.. but do it. So, I'm at the site, and I am applying for my certificate. I am done, the ordering with my credit card begins. Do I need it quickly? Of course I do, like 60 days ago quick please. Fifty-four dollars later, it's coming to me, and it's coming to me quick. Heck, yeah, for $54 it should have been in my hands when I hit enter.
It's Monday, and I have all my documents. Except my birth certificate. But I have the receipt where I have ordered it. I hope this is going to be enough. I call my husband. Say my farewells, tell him where I am going, and advise him to be on stand by. Bail money may be needed.
I am at the Patrol Station. I have prepped myself all the way there. It's a five minute drive from where I work, so the dress rehearsal was quick. I walk in, there is no wait. Great, just great, I needed a minute to breathe again. Because I think I held my breath all the way there. The lady behind the counter hollers out..NEXT. Which I thought was ridiculous..I was the only dang one in there. I walk up to the counter, with all of my "stuff". And I began, with my woeful story of how this all happened. How in THE WORLD, this could have all happened. How sorry I am. Swearing, that ever since I found out, I have not driven again until today. And then, only 10 miles an hour, no more, I promised. The whole time, dragging all of "my stuff" out of the envelopes, laying it out for her, to make it as easy on her as possible. She's holding my license, because she asked for that first. She places her hand on my arm, I am only halfway through my begging for forgiveness story. And she says, "Honey, your license is not expired, we'll see you again in November, 2011." I just stood there. With the blankest possible look on my face. I asked to see my license. To please hand it back to me. And I'm looking. At the date of expiration, which was 11/4/2011. Such humiliation. Such a ding dang waste of sincerity. Of begging and crawling. All but crying for redemption with no jail time.
It's coming for you. I hope I have helped you. And if you need to check your license...don't trust your husband's failing eyesight, put your glasses on.