Digi-Scene

My worst fears were realized when I was told at the DMV this morning that because my old California license had expired, I was required to take the written driving test in order to renew it. After getting my mugshot taken (complete with deer in the headlights open-mouthed stare), I was given the dreaded #2 pencil, a multiple choice test, and was shown to a long counter where I could stand in complete silence with other similar panic-striken adults.

I handed in my test in the little wire basket and then slunk over to sit in one of those hard molded-plastic chairs to nervously await my fate.

"Kim?"
I scurried to the counter, hoping to avoid having them yell my score across the room at me. Though why I should care that a room full of strangers should know that I failed my driving test is beyond me.

"Yes, I'm Kim."
"You passed, ma'am."
"I passed?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Can you check the score again?"
"Yes, ma'am, you missed one question."
"I did?"
"Yes, ma'am, congratulations. We're taking a short survey to understand better our patrons preparation for the test. How many hours would you say that you studied for the test?"
"I didn't study."
"You didn't study?"
"No, ma'am."
"Not at all?"
"No, ma'am."

And that, my friends, is how I came to be allowed to drive the freeways of California with impunity...