License Branch – Known to most as the DMV

Throughout our marriage so far, there have been many instances when I say something that Ryan thinks is HillBillyish. For example, in my family, we call the License Branch the “License Branch”…not the DMV. A pot hole has always been referred to as a “chuck hole” and poo, when found on the ground in the woods is known as “scat.”

Since moving away from home, I agree that my parents have some accent going on, but I do not recogonize this in myself.

All of that is to let you know that I just got home from the Licence Branch, which closes at 5:30pm. So I left work 10 minutes early (at 3:53pm) in order to get there on time. The Illinois DMV that I go to is located 28 miles from where I work, and yes, it took me an hour and a half to go 28 miles in chicago rush hour traffic. Actually, I didn’t even think traffic was too bad today at all!

So I am rushing to get there because I simply need to switch my plates from my old Honda to my new car. Of course, I take a wrong turn and have to turn around, but then find I am going the wrong way down a one-way street. I finally find the place, run to the front door, and explain why I am there. The lady asks “Do you have the titles to both cars?” To which I resond “Yes” and she says “you have the titles to both cars?” and I say “yes” again. She then hands me a form to fill out and sends me away.

The time is now 5:23. I am rushing as fast as I can to fill out the form, and realize that I don’t know my license plate # by heart…and my plates are on my Honda, which is parked in Michigan at my parent’s house! I call them…they are on their way to church, but kindly turn around to read my my plate #. I love my INCREDIBLE parents!! I fill out the paperwork while all around me I hear DMV employees saying that “It’s closing time” and “hurry up” and “you better pay your taxes.” A few different people came up to ask me if I needed help…what I needed was less pressure.

I was trying to write so fast that not just my hand, but my whole arm and shoulder were getting cramped up under the stress these people were placing on me! Ahhhh! So I finish the forms, and head over to the other line that I have to stand in to talk to an actual person. I get there and she says, “Just relax Kathleen, everything is fine, we won’t leave until you’re all taken care of.” Uhhhh…Im Amber, not Kathleen…

“This is not your name on the title?”
“Uhhh, I guess not…That is the girl who owned the car before me.”

“So you have not paid taxes on this car?”

So I had to go get another form from the first lady I talked to…the one who asked me “You have the title to both cars?” And this time she is mad at me because she told me at the beginning and I told her I had both titles. She takes the form I just filled out and gives it a big RIP down the middle.

The next thing I know it is 5:33 and people are getting hostile. They are filling out my forms for me, telling me “sign here” SIGN HERE” and telling me “write a check to the State of Illinois for bla bla bla” “now write another check to the Illinois DMV for bla bla bla.”

So I am frantically writing checks, signing papers, and then suddenly I was being herded toward a mean looking lady in a polka-dot sweater who was 3 minutes late from getting off of work. She took my money and showed me the door.

I guess we will have to wait and see if I actually accomplished what I went in for, which was simply transferring my license plates from my Honda to my Mazda.

I am horrified.


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