Dual Citizenship

So while Johnny was out of town, I decided it was about time to register the car and get a Texas driver's license. I had gotten the car inspected a week or so before, and I knew it was just a matter of time before someone pulled me over for not having it registered.

So I packed up the boy and went to the DMV. Luckily, it's pretty close, right by the library. Unluckily, it was cold and rainy. But the driver's license division was right next to the registration, so I thought, hey, I can get both in one trip. Simple, right?

Wrong! I walked into the driver's license place, saw the forms for new licenses, which I picked up to have ready, and looked around for someone to ask where the registrations were. I finally saw the sign and went down the hall, but as I was looking around the driver's license room, I remembered I didn't bring my social security card with me. Which was silly, I know, because I remember way back to when I got my first driver's license and had to sign my social security card that was all the documentation they required . . . and then I almost got into an accident on my way home (sorry Mom!). Good times . . .

Anyway, I knew I was going to have to go home. But what I failed to realize is that Texas is another country, so the normal documentation that people tell you to bring, the extra documentation that you bring just in case, the random documentation that is just with the extra documentation--is not going to be enough!!! Oh, no. You must make at least three trips out to your car and one trip home before you gather enough things to register your car.

Okay, so I did actually have everything in my car, but I knew I would need my social security card to get a driver's license, so I went home to get that and the title to our car just in case the "or" mentioned in the sentence, "You need your registration or your car title" was really a legal "or", which means "and". Basically, I didn't want to have to come home again.

So after three trips to my car and a trip home, I got my registration . . . finally. And they handed me the new plates right there. After charging me an extra $90 citizenship fee. What?!

After parting with my second to last check in my check book (because of course, they don't take Visa) for $180, the total fee to register my car and become a citizen, I went next door to the driver's license bureau. I had been told what they'd want to see, and after all, I now had my social security card, my Utah driver's license, all I'd need, right?

Wrong! I had forgotten yet again that Texas is a foreign country, so see a social security card and a driver's license from another state is not enough proof that I am a U.S. citizen. They also needed to see my passport.

Well, at this point, I'm pretty fed up with the DMV. So I decide to try another day. So, another day arrives, and I set out again for the DMV. Still cold, still rainy, only now, it's also busy. And the only parking space is in the middle of a big puddle. So I walk into the driver's license division with one very wet shoe, hauling a big heavy car seat and all the documentation I've been told to bring. I jump right in line because I've filled out the right form, and I already have everything. I took care this time to make sure I looked decent for a photograph, and I wait. I finally approach the counter. And, surprise, surprise, I don't have everything I need. I have to go out to the car. So, I leave my stuff at the counter, drag the heavy car seat back to the car, grab the document, pray that they won't surprise me with another requirement, and go back into the DMV. Take a lousy picture, pay them with my last check (cause they don't take any plastic), and leave.

Luckily, the people in line were nice. Several people opened the door for me during the whole multiple-day torture session. And I only said a handful of bad words in my head. Welcome to Texas. Hello dual citizenship.