After 15 minutes of filling out forms and checking our driving histories, she came to a stop and said, "Oh, shoot!" Uh-oh, this can't be good. Turning to Justin, she said "It looks like you have a CDL, so I'm not going to be able to process your license." Then she turned to me. "And since your proof of residence only has your husband's name on it, I can't process your license until he has a Mississippi license."
Justin looked incredulous and tried to reason with the clerk, "But I don't want a Mississippi CDL. And besides, that was just a training permit that expired last month! I'm operating under a regular Georgia license."
"That doesn't matter," she replied. I'm not authorized to handle anyone with a CDL. You'll have to go to either Hattiesburg or Natchez if you want to get a license today, or you can wait until Tuesday and there will be a lady at the Brookhaven office that can process you." She handed us the paperwork and waved over the next client.
Justin and I left the office annoyed, and we weighed our options. The reason we wanted to get our licenses on Friday was because we were planning a canoe trip on Saturday, and we wanted to buy fishing permits for the journey. So waiting until Tuesday to get licenses at nearby Brookhaven (only 30 minutes away) wasn't an option. We were left to choose between Hattiesburg and Natchez. We pass through Hattiesburg almost every time we go home, and we had only visited the beautiful historic town of Natchez once since moving to Mississippi, so it really wasn't a tough decision. They were both an hour and fifteen minutes away, so we decided to make an impromptu visit to Natchez.
Twenty minutes into our trip, Justin turned to me and remarked, "It occurs to me that we have no clue where the Department of Public Safety in Natchez is." We looked at each other, then agreed to ask for directions when we got there. Amazingly, right after we made our last turn before entering the city limits, we both saw the building sitting there on the left. That was the last of our good luck for a while. The computer system was down when we arrived, and there was a slow trickle of people leaving the office who couldn't stand the wait. After driving so far, Justin and I were determined to wait until they forced us out the door. It was two hours before the clerks had the system up and running again. They called out several numbers without any response. Finally, they called our number and we practically ran to the counter. Half an hour later, we were out on the office and on our way, our shiny new Mississippi driver's licenses in our pockets!
It was about 3:30 by this time, so we decided to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city. We gawked over the streets full of 200-year-old mansions, drove across the Mississippi River into Louisiana just for the heck of it, and when we finally got hungry, we ate at local barbecue joint called the Pig Out Inn (traveler's tip - the pulled pork sandwiches were unbelievably good, prepared by a cook right when you order on a big wooden butcher's block; the corn on the cob, on the other hand, tasted as though it might have been better suited for feeding a pig than as a side dish with the pig. I recommend the baked beans instead).
We arrived at home with just enough daylight left for Justin to cross item #2 off of our "To Do" list.
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