The DMV and Me

I have discovered hell and it is here on earth. No need to wait for the afterlife, just visit the Department of Motor Vehicles.

This week, I had to take care of some business, and I had to get a copy of my birth certificate. I would rather have a root canal than hunt for a form I haven’t seen in the last 30 years. I looked in every file folder I have. I found transactions long forgotten. I found the deed to my mom and dad’s old house. I found birth certificates for my mom, my dad, my sister, my daughter, my grandmother, my grandad and Trixie…I could not find mine anywhere and this started the whole thing off on a bad note. The failure to find said birth certificate necessitated a trip to the health department, a place that gives me the creeps because I used to work at one years ago. I have flashbacks of old IBM Selectric typewriters chasing me down the hallway. At any rate, obtaining a copy was relatively easy and I was on my way fairly quickly. That was the last quick thing that happened to me that day.

For starters, I was told (at the health department, I might add) to go the UPS Store to obtain my next form. I drove 15 miles out of my way to the UPS Store, only to find they no longer handled that issue. I had to drive all the way across town (another 15-20 miles out of my way) to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles. Just for your information, I am the woman who always pays an extra dollar and renews online. My driver’s license picture is at least 30 years old and I look like a homeless renegade in it. But apparently, since there was no way around it, i made my way reluctantly to the DMV.

Okay, for starters, it took me 15 minutes to find a place to park. I mean, how much more would it have cost to cut a few more parking spaces? Tax dollars at work right there now. Needless to say, it was packed. I got real familiar with the Angry Birds and Pet Rescue games on my iPhone. It’s a good thing I brought my own entertainment because I waited an HOUR AND A HALF for a five minute transaction. And my number was E110, which indicated the “Express Lane.” God only knows how long some of those poor people in the non-express lane had to wait. I saw one old dude propped up in the corner with a spider hanging off the end of his jacket…If Satan himself had been there, i would not have been surprised.

I already knew patience was NOT one of my virtues, but this little excursion made realize just how lacking i am in that area. I no longer like to wait in line. I shift from one foot to the next. I squirm in my seat. I roll my eyes. I dither. I comment to people seated next to me. I mutter under my breath. I cuss silently in my mind. I am NOT a good little Christian woman when I’m placed in a position that requires me to wait. No, I seem to turn into a cross between a meerkat and Zena Warrior Princess. I say “meerkat” because of the way they crane their long necks and look around inquisitively. I must have done that 30 dozen times in the hour and a half I sat there, hoping for my number to be called. God help me, I was so relieved to get out of there, that I forgot to stop and get gas on my way home! It’s a thousand wonders I didn’t get stranded by the side of the road.

Times like these make me grateful for the grace and mercy of God. Mercy because I didn’t throat punch anyone, and grace because I wanted to…I hope everyone has a blessed and safe weekend. God bless you, my friends!

ThIs looks mich better than my dmv…