Why Some People Drink
Got my car license switched from B.C. to Quebec today. It only took four hours. Not counting the previous two-hour car inspection, the insurance crap, and the 400 bucks the switch cost.
I haven’t been through this much bullshit since I ran around St. Petersburg, Russia, getting papers in order so my wife and I could get married.
I was ready to pull the pin today. Get in the car, and drive back to the West Coast. I can’t handle the bureaucracy. I’m too old for this.
I did everything they asked. I got my car inspected a couple of weeks ago. I began the insurance steps. I made an appointment for 10:30 today in which they’d previously told me to bring proof of residence and ID, but when I got there this morning the guy said he needed more. He said he needed my passport. He needed proof of employment. He needed more proof of residency. What’s he think, I was living in a tent?
I’ll give all of them proof. Proof my boot fits up their ass.
So I left my appointment, drove home, got my passport, printed up my cell phone bill for proof of residency, then drove 25 km. to work to get a letter saying I worked there, then drove back to the license place, whereupon I presented myself at 1 pm and he said he’d see me at 1:15, even though no one was in line.
Then a customer showed up and was promptly served ahead of me, and I finally got to see this dude an hour later.
On top of everything, he said I have a class 1 and I’d now need a medical and have to take a driving examination, which I declined because I have no intentions of ever driving tractor-trailer again, and I promptly got rid of my class 1 with air brakes and have just a normal license now. First time since the mid-’70s.
While he was studying my class 1 (class A in some parts), he said it didn’t say anything on it about manual or automatic transmission experience. I told him I was a semi driver for 20 years, but do you think that mattered? Nope. It didn’t say anywhere on my license if I was capable of using a manual shift, and he was all screwed up because of this.
Apparently in Quebec a class 1 license specifies how you’re able to change gears. Who cares about the transmission. As long as you can go frontwards and backwards. Gawddamit.
I felt like telling this person I was shifting 18 gears when he was shifting in his baby seat and he can shove his freakin paperwork up his ass. Then I’d go home, throw everything in the car, and head back west. I came very close.
But I didn’t and it’s done. Now I’m rattled, and if you don’t hear anything from me in the next days or weeks, it’s probably because I’ve dropped dead from anxiety.