The DMV

 

I had a job to do, one that I've been putting off for six months. Over the weekend I gathered all the papers I assumed that I would need. I went on the internet to pre-fill the required forms. I copied Mark's will, the power of attorney in my name, copied his death certificate, and put that all in a large envelope along with the original death certificate, his driver's license, and the title to his car. On Monday morning I drove over to the Secretary of State office on Elston Avenue. I should say, the notorious Secretary of State office. Nobody likes that place. As efficient as they are, it is always a tossup as to whether you will get out of there in half an hour or half a day.  

When I first pulled into the parking lot I was horrified to see a line of people that wrapped all the way around the building. I pulled up my big boy pants, put my head down and headed for the back of the line. To my delight when I got close, I learned that the long line was for people applying for the new 'Real ID'. Even if you have a current driver's license, you now need this new one if you want to fly or enter a federal building. I'm putting off getting one because I have a passport. Yes, I know it doesn't fit nicely in my wallet. But the hell if I'm going to stand in that line. Anyway, I walked past the long line and right on up to the doors of the vehicle transactions entrance. A big sign on the door said, "Closed on Mondays".

The bastards. Nowhere on their web site did I see that.

Yesterday, I tried again. Again there was a long line, even longer than the day before. Again it was not my line. My line to transfer the title was very short. There was a group of state employees in orange vests going up and down the line making sure you had the proper paperwork. I asked the lady in the orange vest if I was in the right line. She barely looked my way as she barked at me.

"See this lady? You are behind her. She is behind the man in front of her..."

"Oh, okay but...."

"I'm talking to this lady right now. Wait your turn."

Orange vest lady glared at me with angry eyes. I quietly took my place behind the lady. After a few minutes it was my turn to talk to the angry Illinois employee. I explained what I was doing.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Do you have a small estate affidavit?"

I began to pull out the pages of forms I had.

"Small estate affidavit. Do you have it?"

I quickly pawed through all my papers....

"No."

She walked away. Moments later she returned with a blank copy of the small estate affidavit.

"Here you go. Fill this all out, make sure your name is on line eleven. Once again, sorry for your loss. Have the form notarized."

She then moved on to the next schmuck in line. I stood there for just a moment, then said "Thank you." and walked back to Mark's car.