Where's the Pastry Cutter


We chose to live in the District of Columbia knowing that, if we wanted to drive here (and we did), we would have to deal with the nightmare of the D.C. Registry of Motor Vehicles. My goal was to get it done in one visit.

In Massachusetts, there was a registry office ten minutes from our house. With free parking. And I knew how it worked. In D.C., it’s in a busy part of downtown (Georgetown) in the lower level of a shopping mall that has no parking.

Our cousin Andrea offered to accompany me. She has lived here for years. She went on-line to make sure we knew exactly what to do and called the Registry to make sure she had it right. I, too, looked on line. I brought my passport and two items with my new address, my car title, my passport and a ton of other stuff. But it wasn’t enough. They refused to accept my second proof of living here so I had to go home and print a credit card bill that I haven’t received in the mail yet to serve as a second item with my new address.

I had to wait in line for an hour and a half, but when it was over I had a temporary driver’s license and license plates. Then I had to drive to another part of Washington to get my car inspected. Thanks to my GPS, we got there, and miracle of miracles, there was almost no wait.

So, at the end of an exhausting day I have an inspection sticker, license plates and a driver’s license for the District of Columbia.

Yes, it took two visits to the Registry and lots of waiting. But I got it done in one day.

In the District of Columbia, that’s a triumph.


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