Birthday

Today, I turned 55. I took the day off work, not so much to celebrate, but to obtain a new driver's license because mine expires today. 

I remember the last time I replaced it. I just walked into an RMV office in a town I happened to be driving through and got it done. Things have changed since then. 

This time two armed young men with modern hairdos intercepted me in the doorway. 

Do you have an appointment?

No. It's my birthday. I need to replace my driver's license.

Do you have your documentation?

I have my driver's license...

Sir, you're going to need an appointment, a copy of your birth certificate - stamped, a bill or other piece of mail with your address on it and your social security card. 

Wait. I'm the same guy I was five years ago when I got my last driver's license replaced. 

Yes, I understand, sir. But the rules changed back in 2018.

I told him I just needed to walk over to the courthouse to get a birth certificate. 

When I'd managed to do that, I returned and the second armed and unsmiling security officer walked me inside, gestured toward the end of the line (of people with legitimate appointments) and told me I was "all set". I thanked him feeling like the tottering old guy who's granted a mildly annoyed favor to prevent him from succumbing to his own befuddlement.

The only painful part of the process after that was seeing the photo. For five years, I've been waiting to get rid of that last driver's license photo. It was taken three days before I saw you for the last time. I look lost. 

In this new replacement photo, I look old and not exactly found either. But I make jokes with the girl at the counter and she smiles more than once. 

There aren't very many of those at the RMV. Smiles, I mean. Fuck 'em, I did it anyway.