The adventure, as you can probably guess, did not end there. The place was packed. The numbers telling people where to go were rattling off in that obnoxious electronic voice they rattle off in every two seconds (or less), people were shuffling around like ants on crack, and I had left my book in the car. Eventually, it was my turn to take the test, and off I went.
The test was fine. Insanely boring, but fine. I passed (yay!), had my picture taken, grabbed my permit, and scampered out the door, staring at the aforementioned permit only to find...That it said I was a man. That's right! Now, knowing this isn't true (and I should know), I marched my butt right back inside and demanded (not really, but for the sake of drama....) that this be fixed.
It was, but not before I sat in the uncomfy DMV chairs for another 5-10 minutes, had my picture taken (again), scribbled my name on the annoying sensorpadthingy, sat in the chairs some more, and was finally handed a brand new, shiny, second permit. This one did not say that I am an organ donor, but by this point I was too annoyed with the DMV to go back and have more things fixed.
This concludes the story of the day I almost became a man.