I had an interesting experience trying to get the eye glasses restriction on my driver’s license removed. A couple of months earlier I met an old friend from school who was in the same boat as me. As he aged into his AARP years, his distance vision came back to almost perfection. Of course, we have peepers strategically placed all over the house to ensure we can read. My friend lives in Maryland. He said that all he had to do was have his ophthalmologist contact the Maryland state DMV, verify that his vision was near 20/20 and voila, within two weeks he had a new restriction-free driver’s license. I’m thinking to myself, “This is just too good to be true, finally something easy.”
So I go to my eye doctor for a checkup, I’m 20/30, well below the 20/50 limit. Heck, I’m thinking with 20/30 vision I could fly an F15 fighter – sure I could, but only after I finished screaming my head off and soiling every layer of clothing I was wearing. Back to reality - With extreme confidence, I explain to my doctor that I’d like her to provide these outstanding results to the good folks at the DMV so I can have the restriction on my driver’s license removed. And that’s when my house of cards started to implode right before my exceptional eyes. She replied to me, that in New Jersey, you bring your vision prescription to a specific New Jersey Motor Vehicle Commission office, MVC. (DMV is now considered offensive.)
It was like someone stuck a pin in my positivity balloon, and blew it to pieces. I sulked, and months passed. It’s now time to get my Real ID driver’s license, so I figure I’ll kill two rocks with one bird. You can only get the Real ID at specific offices. After picking a wrong office, I drive 40 minutes up to Randolph with my six points of identity documentation, authenticating I am who I am. FYI – unless you have a passport and an old driver’s license, getting six points in today’s world is near impossible. At least now I have something to worry about.
I arrived at the Randolph office and the line of wanting individuals was practically out the door. I can feel the MVC dread begin to consume me. I wouldn’t think this many people actually live in New Jersey. And as my luck would have it, they all decided to go to Randolph today.
There are stages of lines you must negotiate before you eventually get to the MVC oracle of driving. This person is responsible for submitting the mountains of paperwork that will eventually lead to a new license showing up in your mailbox. Getting to this person is like finally reaching the Soup Nazi. You’re elated to be there, but this person holds your transit fate in his overworked, sweaty hands. One wrong move and you’re doomed.
I finally get to this last omniscient person. We’re exchanging information, and then he proceeds to begin taking sad pictures of my head. He had been working feverishly on his terminal for twenty minutes preparing the creation of my holier than thou, Real ID Driver’s License. All of a sudden it hits me, the restriction, I want it removed! When I tell this to the all-powerful man behind the counter, the look on his face was probably similar to the look I had when I got the fabulous news that I was going to need to come to his office. He tells me that I’ll need to start the process all over again. Since I didn’t bring my sleeping bag, that wasn’t an option. That and I told him that I’d rather be lit on fire than do that again.
I come back two weeks later with my brand new Real ID. I’ve enlarged my vision prescription so it’s easier for them to read. I’ll be scoring big brownie points! I’m figuring, with my new license and my user-friendly documentation, I’ll just drop it off with someone and be on my way. Then, I’ll patiently await my new, restriction-free Real ID to arrive via mail. I work my way to the first service window. I’m in luck, I have a seasoned veteran manning my station. I explain to this very capable person, the very simple service that I’d like performed. She responds very matter of factly, “Let’s see what you have.” She quickly tells me that they do not accept copies, it must be the original vision prescription. I file that into the “No good deed goes unpunished” folder. Then she tells me that the prescription can’t be more than 60 days old. Mine is 75 days old – I need to go back and take another test. I was a mildly disappointed, but did not break anything on the way out.
Long story long, I get another test, same results. For my next attempt, I’m returning from a lunch in Denville. I drive to the MVC office with my correct size and dated prescription info in hand. This particular afternoon, office resembles a large sardine can – it’s packed, again. And I just can’t fathom waiting another two or three hours. I ask one of the crowd control officers, “When is it less crowded?” He tells me, when it opens at 8:00AM. Next day I head up and arrive at 8:00AM. I go to the first station and there is a newbie behind the counter. He is confused by my request, but eventually sends me over to “Window 16.” I smell a rat.
Behind window 16 is a very pleasant woman. (Side Note: Everyone I dealt with at the MVC, on every flipping day I was there, was pleasant and helpful.) This woman mans the eye test machine. I see red and explain to her, “I don’t need to take her eye test as I have a doctor’s note.” I felt like I was back in high school trying to get out of gym class. My fear is that I might have been staring at my iPhone too long and my vision won’t have had time to recalibrate for distance. She wryly says, “Why don’t you give the machine a try.” So, with no leverage, and a history of bombing big tests, I dive in. All I can say is this, if I were blind, I could have passed this test.
Now the lady behind window 16 is collecting all kinds of data. She goes back and forth multiple times, checking with what seems like, senior management. I’m thinking I either murdered this test or it’s the first time she’s had to do this. I wait calmly with confidence. I know I have them this time. The pleasant lady finally returns with a smile on her face. I reach my hand out to take my new license. But instead, she says, “Okay, do you have your 6 points? You need to go on the end of the line now and apply for your new driver’s license.” I thought she was punking me. But she was not. I told her, “I don’t have my six points with me. I just got this new license, I only want the restriction removed. “ I’m thinking if I pinch myself hard enough, I’m going to wake up from this nightmare. But her hands were tied, this was the required procedure.
I go home, frantically find my 6 points, and drive back. Now the line is almost out the door again. I’m not exactly sure when, but I am going to break something. I grin and bear it. I get to the final window and allow my tormentor to process my new license in silence. I remind her about having my restriction removed. The look on her face was akin to someone not understanding English. She asked me if I have any proof or paperwork. (This now becomes the scene out of the movie, “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” where Steve Martin’s rent-a-car is not in the spot in the rental lot that’s miles away, and he get annihilated during his struggle returning to the rental sales counter at the airport. I respond, I have none! At this point, I’m pretty sure this is the first episode of the new Candid Camera series streaming on Hulu. Before lunging across the counter, and being tasered, I suggested she go to infamous Window 16, and verify my story.
So with a commensurate amount of additional torture, my restriction-free Real ID arrived last weekend – a cake walk.
Major point here - when Musk and crew arrived at government offices with the mission to improve efficiency, they’d ask the current employees inane questions like, tell me five things you did last week. What they should have been asking them was, “Tell me five things we could do to make this place run more efficiently.” Just reducing staff is not nearly the best approach. Especially when you wind up hiring back furloughed employees.
This is now a life hack favorite Steve!!
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