Other People's Stories, Part 3 of ?: A New ID Card for Gina
This is sort of my story, too, because I was there, although it didn't really happen to me. It happened to Gina.
Gina and I went to college together. We got to know each other pretty quickly, because we were both from California, we were both English majors, and we were both going to college in Durango, Colorado. Her house in California was pretty close to my grandparents' house, so on school vacations, she would get a ride home with me, and we had two days on the road together to talk, each way. She gave me gas money. Gina didn't drive, herself. She'd never gotten around to getting a license.
Once, while at college in Colorado, Gina decided to get a Colorado ID card. She only had a California one. (For non-USA dwellers: in the US, we generally use a state driver's license as identification, but if you don't drive, you can get an ID card. It looks just like a driver's license, except that, at the top where it usually says, "Driver's License" it says, "ID Card".) I agreed to drive her downtown to get her ID.
I remember we were in the little office. Gina was at the counter talking with the DMV guy about her ID. I believe she said something like,
"I'd like to trade in my California ID for a Colorado ID."
I spaced out for a little while. The only other two people at the Durango DMV were talking about the Catch-22 of the motorcycle license: in order to ride a motorcycle, you had to have a license, but in order to learn to ride a motorcycle, you had to ride a motorcycle- and presumably that required a license. The two guys agreed you just had to ride it in low traffic areas without a license, until you could take the actual test for the license. Suddenly, I looked up and noticed that they were giving Gina an eye exam.
Eye exam? Since when do you have to see well to have an ID card?
Uncharacteristically, I had the good sense to say nothing. Gina finished the eye test, smiled for the picture, and came to sit by me for a minute while we waited for the card to be printed. Uncharacteristically, Gina also said nothing.
We walked out of there with a nice, shiny, new driver's license for Gina. She had never taken a driving test.
"I think they just gave me a driver's license! Oh, my god! This is a driver's license!"
We were both pretty satisfied with the day's events. Years later, she drives just like anyone else. I'm not positive, but I don't think she's ever had an accident- except for that time I was teaching her to drive and she let the VW roll back a little too far and tap the Volvo behind us, but I don't think that really counts.