Something  funny happened to me last week but before I tell you about it you’ll need to read this portion of a post I wrote a while back. Now don’t go telling me you read it already ‘cause I know for a fact that no one was spending any time reading here back in then.

So go on, read it.

Just Another DMV Story

I admit it, I’m a procrastinator. We moved to Wisconsin from Arizona four and one-half years ago and I only recently made the obligatory trip to the DMV to get my WI license. I admit it, I’m a terrible person. But in my defense, although the Arizona license had on it one of the very worst pictures ever taken of me, it didn’t expire until 2027. I kept telling myself that there was a good chance I’d never have to enter a DMV again if I could just hang on to that license. But alas, hubby wasn’t moving the family back to AZ any time some so I had to give in and relinquish the dream.

I got as dolled up as possible without looking like I was going in for my Glamour Shots. I even attempted to lose a few pounds while I slept the night before. When that didn’t work, I dressed as thinly as possible so that when I lied about my weight, no one laughed out loud.

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that in this small town of 12,000 they actually offer an adequate amount of DMV services at the library on the second and third Thursday of each month. Issuing new licenses is one of the services offered, so that saved a trip into the nearest city.

I have to say, the entire visit was quick and painless. I know how everyone has something negative to say about the speed, intelligence, or courtesy of DMV employees but I don’t. The entire experience was perfect.

That is, if on my new license, the little checkmark in the box next to the M under the heading of sex stands for Most Nights.

Yep, you read that right, my license says I’m a male. Well it did, until last week. I had to take my son to the DMV, the very same office that snubbed its nose at me nine months ago by declaring to the world that I was not nearly feminine enough to possibly be considered a female.

Well I was feeling pretty good about myself since losing some weight and I decided to get into our new-to-us (remember that part, you’ll know why later) van and try to convince them they were wrong. I even donned a semi-tight top in an effort to bolster my defense.

The man behind the counter called, “Next!” and since it was my turn, I sauntered up to the counter. I batted my puny eyelashes, stuck out my chest and said in the sweetest tone that I could muster, “Can I be a girl this time?”

The man stared at me blankly.

Just then the machine to my left beeped and he walked in that direction. The older gentleman waiting over by the chairs looked up as the clerk called his name. His license was ready. The man asked in jest, “Well is it something I’ll want to frame?” the DMV clerk didn’t even crack a smile. He just handed the man his license and walked back to me.

I knew I better change my strategy; humor seemed to have no affect on this man.

He stood in front of me stone-faced and silent.

I smiled and said, “My license says I’m a man and my husband is not happy about that.”

I handed it to him, he looked down at it, then up again at me.

“Gees, I could tell you were a woman right away,” was his response.

“Thank you,” I said and I meant it because sadly it was the nicest thing any stranger had said to me in years.

So yeah, I’m a woman again. But you want to know the best part? I had that guy smiling by the time I left. He even let me take a picture (which didn’t turn out) when I told him I was going to blog about the whole mess. Although he did make me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone how nice he really was.

As you can imagine, I was feeling pretty magnificent by the time I got in my van. So good in fact that I even told my son I’d listen to one of his CD’s on the way home. He tried to push it into the CD player but it wouldn’t go in. He hit the CD button and out popped the previous owners CD. The first song on the CD made me crack up, so much so we decided to play it and I reassuredly, confidently, even boldly sang along.

Won’t you sing along with Shania and me… do do do du do… I feel like a Woman

Written by Lauren