I’ve never had an issue with showing people my driver’s license photo, but then I’ve never had a really bad one – until now.
“May I see your license please?’ I’ll ask customers at work, and I’m always amused when they get embarrassed.
Of course, the worst thing to do is say something like, “So long as you don’t look at the picture,” because then I can’t help but steal a glance.
One of the girls at work got her license renewed this week and we were discussing how long you should renew your license for.
“I only paid for two years,” the girl at work told me. This surprised me, because she’d just been explaining the cost benefits of paying for five.
I had my license redone earlier in the year, because the sticker on the back had worn off, and they replaced my license for free – much to my chagrin.
“We’ll just need to take your photo,” the nice lady at the local Dept of Transport told me.
“What?” I stammered. “No.”
I had assumed, when I jumped out of bed, stumbled into some clothes and drove to their office, that I’d just be given a replacement sticker, not a whole new license.
“Afraid so,” the woman said. I think she felt sorry for me because she could see how unprepared I was – I still had bed hair.
“I don’t suppose you have photoshop?” I quipped. From her face I gather she’d heard that one before.
So I went from having a picture of me all young and fresh looking (back when I only had three kids) to the me now (with seven of the blighters). I was quite pleased to show people my old license. Whereas my new license photo looks dreadful. I can’t wait to lose it so I can justify getting another one.
“Why didn’t you pay for five years?” I asked the girl at work.
“Because they wouldn’t let me see the photo!” she cried. I would never have thought to ask.
But I’m not surprised they don’t show people. Could you imagine how long it would take them to get through the line if they had to keep snapping photos until the customer was happy with the result?
“I paid for five,” another staff member admitted happily.
“Did they let you see your photo?” I wanted to know.
“No,” she said. “I’d been practicing in front of the mirror for ages before I went in.”
Clever. Wish I’d thought of that before I left the house. I might have noticed my bed hair.
As it is, I went to the supermarket the other day and the eftpos lines were down. They were happy to process my transaction manually but I had to produce some additional ID.
“May I see your license please?” the girl asked me.
“No,” I said. “I’m sorry but don’t have it on me.”
I lied. It was in my pocket. But I would rather go home without milk and face the wrath of my wife than show that picture to another living soul.
No, what I’m going to do next time my license is due is to pretty myself up and try negotiate a ten year license – I reckon in another couple of years I’ll be looking back on how I look now and thinking I wasn’t so bad.
After all, I’ve got four girls still to hit puberty so the bags under my eyes are only going to get deeper.
When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’ Facebook Page.
’raising a family on little more than laughs’