Last week, I went to the DPS office to renew my driver's license. I haven't had to go for a while because I am a model citizen and had been able to renew through the mail. Apparently, the cut off age for that is 45, because this time I actually had to go down to the office.
The lady behind the counter takes my license and asks, "Are you wearing contacts?"
"No. Why?"
"Your license has a corrective lenses restriction," She replied."Really? I though that had been taken off." I hadn't worn my glasses since I was 19 or 20, and I had passed all my eye tests. Whenever I look at my license I only saw the "M" for motorcycle. Turns out, they'd moved the corrective lenses thing to another line. The bastards."Let's check your vision," she says.
"Sure," I said cockily, strolling over to the little box that looked like Spock's hooded viewer on the bridge of the Enterprise. This'll be a snap, I think.
"Read line five," she said.
I peer into the viewer, and see four groups of four numbers. The first two look like a string of 8s. The third looks like it has a 3 and a 5 in it. The last string is a solid gray bar. Apparently that wasn't the correct answer, because she told me to bring my glasses and try another day.
So on Monday I show up with my glasses and she makes me read line number 4! Hell! I had been able to read that line on Friday without my glasses! I guess, if you're wearing glass you don't have to see as well as someone who isn't. And I had already made a reservation for a new eye exam. (Everyone is getting tired of holding my books and magazines four feet from my eyes to read.)
Forty-five sucks.
No comments:
Post a Comment