I woke up Monday after completing my MSF, intending to drive down to the DMV and get my endorsement; however, my body made it clear it wasn’t going to happen.
Tuesday, the fourteenth of July, came, and there I was at the DMV at 9 a.m. I was excited and nervous.
I wasn’t sure I would pass the written portion; still, I was prepared, with a pencil in one hand and my graduation packet in the other.
DMV receptionist asked if I had an appointment.
Confused, I responded with a noooo; was I supposed to make one? Thinking to myself, I didn’t see a schedule online. Of course, I didn’t see that the test was electronic either.
In a rude, condescending tone, she told me to sit outside in the lobby and wait for an opening.
The empty lobby started filling up. Many were joking about the attitude, and most were confused about scheduling an appointment.
Suddenly, my name was announced over a high school speaker hanging on the wall. Well, it sounded like my name-ish.
My turn came, and the rude receptionist looked down, talked on the phone, and pointed to the receptionist 3 cubicles down.
Greeting me with a smile and a buttery smooth “How may I help you?” I proceeded to ramble off my MSF experience, and somewhere in the silly string of words, she understood why I was there.
I was directed to a little room behind the cubicles, where I needed to pass the written exam; however, it was on a computer, no pencil required.
I studied the previous night; however, the questions were worded quite differently.
My cockiness and haste led to my failure. I missed five questions. I was dumbfounded, embarrassed, and confused.
After questioning my existence, I looked at the receptionist. She rolled back in her chair away from the person she was working with and asked if I passed.
I looked with the saddest eyes and shook my head from side to side. She smiled and said, ” It’s okay. You can take it two more times before you can come back tomorrow.
My shoulders perked up, and my back was arched, ready for combat.
I returned to the computer for round two.
I missed a question, then another, and another. I was certain failure was imminent.
Then I began to recognize the questions. After a few minutes, the screen flashed past.
My mouth was dry, my legs were heavy, and my fingers started to relax. I slowly got up, pushed the chair under the desk, and proceeded to smile at the receptionist.
She motioned for me to stand behind the person she was engaged with. Soon after, she had me sit down, swipe my credit card, and pointed to the area with a camera and blue background.
Another receptionist greeted me and said, “Smile,” while grinning from ear to ear.
The first shot was so bad. My eyes were closed, my hair was messy, and I was so pale from the embarrassment of failing the test earlier.
She said Let’s go again. Then snap, crackle, pop, there it was: my approval to ride a motorcycle legally. The little “m” under the heading Endorsements.
Like all my trophies, I tucked my license away safe and sound until it was time to show it off.