A Different Kind of DMV Test

By Bob Johnson

It had been more than thirty years since I’d taken a driver’s license test. Over that period I had received no tickets and I’ve had only one in fifty years of driving—no brag, just fact. Yet even with this pristine record, I was nervous during the week leading up to my test at the Kootenai County office of the Department of Motor Vehicles in Coeur d’Alene.

I was a newcomer to Idaho and had read the Idaho Driver’s Handbook twice, making mental notes about laws and regulations that differ from Nevada, the state I’d fled. Over a two-week period I took all forty of the online practice tests, which have sixty questions each. I passed every one and aced twenty-nine of them. I jotted down a note for each question I missed—a learning reinforcement technique my seventh-grade American history teacher had engrained in me.

So why was I worried? I have no idea. If Dr. Phil ever comes to Idaho, maybe I’ll ask him.

It was a drizzly autumn morning. The orange, crimson, canary, and golden leaves of the trees that lined the street leading to the county government building were dappled in dew. By the time I arrived and entered the driver’s license office I finally was starting to calm down—until I noticed that all the people behind the counter wore sheriff’s uniforms. My dread returned, again illogically: If I failed the license test, would they hook me up on the spot and haul me away?

Refocusing, I used a kiosk near the door to check in. Because I was a half-hour early, I grabbed a seat in the back of the room to lean against the wall and try to relax.