… can be called a number of names: BMV, DMV, or, like in Baltimore, MVA. That’s where you obtain a coveted piece of plastic to get your hands on all kinds of booze, red wines being my favorite (if under 21, you can only use it for the dull task of operating a so-called vehicle).
Naturally, great things do not come easy. Brace yourselves for an exercise in frustration ye who enter this house of misery. Today, on a heavily rainy Saturday morning, I had to make an extra trip home from Gwynn Falls MVA because the real list of required documents turned out to be different from its online version. I’m definitely getting good at it: the last encounter with Indiana’s BMV resulted in two or three extra trips, not one. Yesterday my newly acquired co-workers served me with a few similar “license & registration hunting” stories. What I can’t understand is: USA is the most driving country in the world. All the relevant procedures here must be the least painful, so why aren’t they?***
***This post is brought to you courtesy of a guest reader who wished to remain anonymous.
2 comments:
You're spoton. A couple of trips back is nothing, sometimes they put you through hoops for weeks on end.
I'm going next week and just bracing myself for the wait and the waste of time and energy.
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