Adventures at the RMV

rmv_logoYesterday, I had the absolute privilege of going to the RMV. I know what you’re all thinking, “How could you be so lucky?”  

I do feel very lucky to have a car (and now own it). However, dealing with the “adult” parts of taking care of it is pretty annoying, especially when the RMV sends you in circles to accomplish anything.

As you can imagine, the RMV is a crazy place, and with that, always come a crazy story. So while I was there, I decided to document my experience in real time. This is my story.

Thursday night:

5:06pm: I leave work and arrive at the RMV around 5:25. Unfortunately, the form I needed to submit wasn’t stamped by my insurance company so I left empty handed.

5:35pm: I come across the Boston Public Market (which I so need to go back to!) and buy myself some cheese (specifically, brie) to make myself feel better.

Friday morning/afternoon:

11:30am: I once again leave work for round 2.  I have to make it back to work by 2:30 for a meeting, so I’m a little stressed, but thinking I’m going to make it in plenty of time.

11:32am: Who are all these people on the T? I thought it would be empty. Do any of these people work?

11:40am: I get off the T at Haymarket. I’m thinking if I walk fast, no one will be there (only in my wildest dreams).

11:45am: I’m waiting in line during the rush hour of lunch. Seriously, why is one person working the desk? Can’t she see the line getting longer by the second?

11:46: Holy moly, it’s 1,000 degrees in this place.

11:47: I notice the organ donor video which is really sad. I’m so sorry for Jason, just know you saved a cute old man’s life.

11:51: Someone starts to smell like fried food. I start to get concerned because I’ve left my lunch at work and now I’m hungry.

11:52: The man standing next to me in line is talking to himself. Oh boy.

11:54: The line to check in is now down the hallway.

11:55: The man behind me is profusely sweating. Lovely.

11:56: Finally, I’m at the front. I go take a seat and accept my fate that I’m going to be sitting here for a while.

11:58: The jacket comes off. I’m sweating through my shirt. Great.

11:59: A126 is called, I’m A134. Not too bad.

12:00pm: A127 is called. Making progress.

12:07: I notice the automated licensing machines. That’s pretty neat.

12:15: No new numbers have been called in 8 minutes. Bad news.

12:19: I take my first “I’m bored and sad at the RMV” selfie:


12:24: Someone with blue hair walks in. I could never do that. So I try to see what I would look like:


I’m going with a no.

12:27: I learn from the TV in front of me that the first cell phone cost over $3,000 in 1989. Now you can buy one for $29.

12:30: I start to rethink my career as I read an article where I could have gotten a degree in pizza. What was I thinking studying sociology? Is it too late to turn back?

12:35: There is nothing good on any of my social media accounts. Start posting people!

12:38: I’m next!

12:41: My number is called! Joy to the world

This is where it starts to get good:

12:46: I am told I do not have enough money to complete my transaction. I have a check for $135 written out and I need $157 in total. Combined with the cash in my wallet, I’m short (by $4 I might add). But there is an ATM across the street and if I make it back in time before she goes to lunch at 1:00, the lady will still take me and I can carry on my day.

12:50: I run across the street to Citizens Bank (not my bank but I don’t have a choice at this point), take out cash, and weave through traffic to get back in time.

12:52: I make it.

12:54: She tells me the wrong name is on the form. Since I’m transferring my title to my name, “Dara” should be on the form, “not Craig” (my father).

12:56: The woman writes me a note saying I can cut the line and proceed to counter number 22 whenever I have all my forms.

12:57: I kick it into high gear. I call USAA. I ask they give me a new form. Here’s our conversation:

Me: Hi, I need a RMV-1 form because the one you gave me yesterday was wrong.

USAA: Okay no problem, when do you plan on going to the RMV?

Me: I’m here now, I need the form ASAP.

USAA: It can take anywhere from 10 minutes – 4 hours to get the form signed and stamped. No promises.

Me: Umm, I’m in a time crunch. I need it soon. Like now.

USAA: I’m going to put you on hold now.


12:58: I ask the kind security man downstairs where I can possibly print anything near here. He tells me the directions to the North End Public Library. I run there, while still on hold with USAA.

1:06: I’m finally off hold and sitting outside the library. He sent me my form. I say a silent prayer.

1:07: I ask the very nice lady at the library if I can print something. She asks what for and I reply quietly, “The RMV.” She says, “Luckily, we do free printing for the RMV.” I do a small victory dance on the inside.

1:09: I try logging on to the USAA site and get a message similar to this one: 2008_01_25_scientology_site_error_message

I literally scream “NO” at the computer.

1:13: After many attempts, I finally log in to the account, print my forms and run out the door while almost running over a cute, old Italian man on my way out.

1:19: I march up to counter 22 at the RMV. The lady doesn’t look at me for a solid 2 minutes because she’s talking about heartburn medicine to a co-worker. I think I’m gonna need something after this adventure.

1:21: She looks up and starts to help me. She tells me all my forms are correct and I have everything I need (THANK GOD).

1:22: She tells me my total comes to $132.50. I look at her in a confused way. I ask:

Me: The other lady told me it was $157, I will gladly pay $132.50 but why is it lower now? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

Lady: Oh, looking at this she added it wrong.

Me: I literally just ran across the street in a rush 30 minutes ago to get more cash because I didn’t have enough and now I do? IS THIS WHAT YOU’RE TELLING ME?

Lady: Sorry honey, it’s $132.50.

I can’t make this stuff up.

1:30: I walk out of the RMV with a new registration and new license plates. Mission accomplished. I request an Uber to go back to the office.

1:32: I get into my Uber. The driver is listening to some man talking in another language. I can’t tell what the language is.

1:41: I arrive back at my office, riled up from my long adventure at the RMV.

1:42: I think to myself, I’m so happy I don’t have to go back there for a long time. I sit back down at my computer, and somehow continue on with my day.




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