Welcome to your eternal damnation, the Driver's License Division.---
This morning, just before nine, I went to renew my expired driver's license. Well, I should say that I started the process, which involved tracking down almost a half-dozen required documents: my passport, Social Security number proof (in my case, thanks to a lost SS# card, last year's W2), and two proofs of residency, i.e. utility bills.
I then drove to the Fairpark Driver's License Division -- thankfully, I was smart enough to check their website, so I did not simply go to the logical location, the DMV offices in South Salt Lake -- where the first sign of trouble was a parking lot that was extremely full for a Thursday morning.
The second sign of trouble: a line stacked 20 people deep. And that was just to get a number to be able to sit in the uncomfortable chairs and wait for a teller.
I grabbed an application, and as I was looking for a pen to start the process, I heard one of the number-giving-people tell a man that the wait was "at least two hours, and probably closer to three by now."
At that point, I put down the application and left. I have a passport, which will work fine for ID, and hopefully I don't need my license for any other reason. Because I'm not renewing the damn thing for at least a few weeks.
Funny thing, though: Glen Warchol, aka Salt Lake Crawler, arrived at the offices shortly after I left and live blogged the torture. It's quite a read. Kudos to him, although he is a braver journalist than me.