Oh ho, wait’ll you read this one. I’m going to the DMV today, an experience certain to piss me off and generate a blog post full of clever puns and writhing wit, culminating in the mass realization of some great enlightenment about county efficiency. It’s only about 9am right now, and I’m about to leave, but I just wanted to get an introduction put down on paper so I can allow my frustration to blog unfettered when I finally escape their evil clutches some time tonight.
Okay, I’m writing this part of the post from my ipaq. It’s about 9:30, and I’ve got all of my paperwork so I can get my car’s registration renewed. In a perfect world, this would be simple. I provide the documentation and the $45, and you give me a sticker to put on my windshield. Done and done. But of course, the insurance card has my parents’ mailing address, since it’s through their agent, so I’m guessing at some point the DMVites are going to have to require the broom stick of the Witch of the West or a shrubbery or something before it’s all taken care of in the eyes of the county. But I’m ready. My blood is pre-boiled. I’m rarin’ for a fight.
Okay, I’m done. Here’s, roughly, what happened…
9:31:00 – Me: “Good morning. I need to get my car’s registration renewed.” I say, smiling. What I really mean is “Just try me, punk.”
9:31:05 – Her: “No problem,” the demon-spawn sputters. “I just need the application we sent you in the mail. Thanks.”
9:31:07 – clickity clickity, print print, stamp stamp
9:31:16 – Her: “Here you go. Have a nice day.”
9:31:16.5 – Me: “YOU CAN TAKE YOUR NICE DAY AND… oh, ah, thanks.”
So, yeah, sixteen and a half seconds, I’d estimate. They even had The Beatles playing in the background. (Not Baby You Can Drive My Car, though.) Oh well. I didn’t really feel up to “writhing wit” today anyway.
2 years ago