So I returned to the scene of my former misery on Friday.
This time, I came armed with all of the necessary paperwork.
***Yes, this means I was able to locate the title to my car. After Jason and I tore the house apart looking EVERYWHERE for the title (unsuccessfully), I had given up, and printed off the form to apply for a new title.
Yes, you read that right. I was all set to apply for a duplicate title, so that I could turn it in at the DMV when I applied for another new title. Ridiculous.
In any case, it turns out that was unnecessary. One morning I woke up, and I knew where the title was. Would you believe that it came to me in a dream? For real?
I had actually filed it in its appropriate place. This just seemed like such an unlikely event that I hadn't even bothered looking in my old files in the first place. (On the bright side, all of the random papers that were NOT filed found an appropriate home during the search process.)***
As I was saying, I returned to the dreaded DMV on Friday. Armed with all necessary documents.
I got into the line, which thankfully was relatively short at the time, and patiently waited my turn. As I was waiting, I was scoping out the women working behind the counter. I was trying to decide whose station I hoped to end up at. I saw the woman who helped me last time (yes, I realize I'm playing it a little fast and loose with the word "helped"), and kept my fingers crossed that she wouldn't call on me. I would actually have preferred to wait in line a little longer for another station than go back to hers.
I found myself thinking of ways that I could avoid that mean old hag. Like, maybe if my turn was up and her station was the empty one, I could let the person behind me go first. I realized this would look suspicious at the DMV, since NO ONE wants to wait LONGER. So I tried to think of some plausible reasons why I would do such a thing.
"Oh, my! My shoe is untied! I shouldn't take those three steps up to the window without tying it first, lest I trip and fall! But I'd hate to hold up the line...you go ahead."
Hey, it could work.
Thankfully, when my turn was up (after only ten minutes or so- gasp!), the meanie was otherwise occupied, and I got to go to a much nicer looking woman's station. I mean, she was wearing a sweater set and pearls. She had to be kind, right?
I simply couldn't believe how quick and easy it was at that point. I told her what I needed, she asked for my driver's license, and a few quick taps of the keyboard and $53 later ($48 check, $5 cash, just because the DMV has to be a little difficult), I was on my way.
Huzzah! My car is now officially registered to my new-named self.
And thank God I don't have to return to the DMV anytime in the foreseeable future.