Licensed to Drive - a True Story in Rhyme, but it Oughta Be a Crime!

My sixteenth birthday finally came.
With three ID's that bore my name,
I prayed not to be put to shame
And headed out, my card to claim.

Arriving at the DMV
To take my test and beg and plea,
An older dame waved, "Pardon me,"
And cut the line, ahead of me.

Her four-door Buick was a tank;
The rear-end bumper sagged and sank.
And, if I were completely frank,
She drove the thing just like a crank.

We sat in line and hoped to pass.
Her turn arrived; she hit the gas
And ran her car right through the glass,
Which shattered clear out to the grass.

Her Buick landed on one side;
The staff, they laughed until they cried.
The lady, certainly tongue-tied,
Was on-the-spot disqualified.

The testing clerk was unimpressed.
He wiped his eyes and called out, "Next."
And just in case you haven't guessed,
With flying colors, I passed my test!

(OK, so this wasn't yesterday . . . . but it's still a true story!)