Though I can’t prove it, I am an Estocadan.

For roughly two days about nine months ago, I was without a wallet. I didn’t have any cash, so I couldn’t get any identification. Without identification, I couldn’t withdraw any money. And the DMV wouldn’t take a check without a valid ID. It took some begging and pleading to get myself out of that jam.

Naturally, the wallet appeared two days later.

Legally, when something like this happens you are supposed to surrender or destroy the duplicate. That was no skin off of my nose as the picture was much better on the original. I decided, however, the become an outlaw and hold on to it just in case I lost my wallet again. Nevermind that I never found a place for it and ended up keeping in my wallet. Besides defeating the purpose, it significantly increased the likelihood that I would get caught.

The drivers license was the last piece of business that I took care of. Auto registration is a revenue-generator for some states, so they get really pissy when people don’t register after moving. Also, the vehicle must be registered in your resident county. Since I got a job in a neighboring county, I had to take care of that before I started working as I could take care of the drivers license during lunch. And you have to have your car registered to get a license. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do if you don’t actually own a car, but I was almost denied because I had forgotten my car registration paperwork. Who knew being an adult was so complicated?

So after passing the eye test, getting my picture taken, and all that jazz, I am given some pathetic little slip of paper called a “temporary driving permit.” It takes them a bloody three weeks to send me the actual license. Deseret, being the efficient little colony that it is, prints them on the spot.

So Clancy and I decided to go out to a music show last Friday at a bar. Fortunately for me, I had only surrendered one of my licenses. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to buy alcohol. My teetotalling wife would have had to buy it for me.

Moral of the story: it pays to lose your wallet and it pays to be an outlaw.