Real ID, False Hope — Part II of My DMV Saga


Subtitle: I Have a License. It’s Just the Wrong One. Again.

Well, well, well. Guess who’s not flying domestically in 2025 with his shiny new Real ID? That’s right. Me. The man who waited 90 days for an appointment, showed up before sunrise, sat on a folding chair all day, and finally emerged triumphant from the DMV like Indiana Jones escaping a temple—only to receive a plain, regular ol’ driver's license in the mail.

Not a Real ID. Not a gold star in sight. Just a standard-issue North Carolina license, the same as before. No bells. No whistles. Just a haunting reminder that bureaucracy always wins in overtime.


I Waited 10 Days and All I Got Was This Lousy Plastic Rectangle

You know that feeling when you’ve done everything right? You got your documents. You stood in line. You smiled for the world’s worst photo. You didn’t yell when the person in front of you pulled out a manila folder with 73 unhelpful receipts and a laminated birth certificate from 1912. You even said “no thanks” when offered a paper temporary ID, because you were that confident the system would work.

And then 10 days later, you get your mail, open the envelope, and squint.

"Wait...where’s the gold star?"
"Wait...this is just...a regular license."
"WAIT—NOOOOOOOOO."

I’ve had gas station scratch-offs go better than this.


47 Minutes on Hold: A Psychological Thriller

After confirming I had not, in fact, suffered some bizarre DMV-themed hallucination, I called the NC DMV help line. Big mistake. Huge. It took 47 minutes of being serenaded by hold music that sounded like it was recorded underwater through a walkie-talkie.

At one point, I left the phone on speaker while I tried to do my adjuster pro course, before realizing that the hold noise was too distracting to do anything that required focus, so I Googled "how long does DMV trauma last." I aged emotionally. I bonded with the hold music. I named it.

Then finally—blessedly—a real human voice picked up.

And you know what she said?

“Oh yeah. That was our bad. You’ll get the Real ID in 10 more days.”

No apology. No expedited shipping. Just a gentle verbal shrug and a new timeline I absolutely do not believe.


I No Longer Trust the State of North Carolina or Any Government That Issues Laminated Cards

At this point, I expect the next license to arrive as a postcard with a crayon drawing of a star on it. Maybe it will say “Real-ish ID.” Maybe it will be addressed to someone named Curtis. I don’t know. I’ve lost faith. I’ve lost time. I’ve lost a small piece of my soul in that DMV lobby and I want it back.

I’m half tempted to drive back up there, ask to speak to a manager, and just live at the counter until the Real ID prints in front of me. I’ll bring snacks. I’ll bring Titus. I’ll bring a tent. I’m not leaving again until someone slides me a star-spangled ID and says, “You are now officially allowed to board a plane and rent a midsize car.”


The Moral of the Story?

Don’t get cocky. The DMV knows when you think you’ve won. It waits until you’ve let your guard down. Then it sends you a regular license and dares you to call.

But I’m not giving up. I will get my Real ID. Someday. Maybe by 2026. Maybe by the time my youngest graduates college. Maybe in the mail, maybe in a dream. Who’s to say?

Until then, I’ll just keep praying for a laminated  miracle. I wonder if we will have a new pope before i get my ID


Stay adjusted, stay caffeinated, and never trust a laminated promise from the DMV.

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