Nikki Lee Health

It is time to renew my driver’s license. That means a photograph. I want my portrait to show me at my best; we all know that a driver’s license photograph can be less than lovely.

I prepare carefully, with make-up, and the right earrings, and the right color shirt with a flattering neckline so that I feel confident and I look vibrant.  My hair is just right. Okay. I am ready to go now.

There is no waiting. I sign in, and sit in front of the examiner, a man in his late 30s or early 40s.  He cues me for the photograph, “no, chin down.” “Chin down. . .now hold it and don’t move.”  Click and flash and the photograph is done. It shows up in a review screen and doesn’t look too bad; in fact, it is okay. I tell him so and he starts processing my new license.  But wait. . . my ear is sticking out. I have wanted my ears covered for all of my life.

I sit on my desire for a moment. C’mon, it’s a driver’s license photograph. Who is going to see it? What difference does it make?

It makes a difference to me. So I ask, “Is it too late for a re-take of the photograph?”  It is.

I am clearly dismayed, saying that I wish my ear was covered. He is sincerely concerned. “You are beautiful” , he says. “Really, you look beautiful. I wouldn’t worry.” I still look alarmed, and he reassures me,  “I am telling you the truth, I am not just blowing smoke up your butt.”

How reassuring. I tell him that I hate having smoke blown up my butt, and walk out the door laughing.