Sunday, September 13, 2009

It Happens Every Four Years

I am officially another year older. I know this because I spent the day in the seventh level of hell which I entered through the 9th gate, but I had to wait in line in order to do so. I arrived at hell or better known as the DMV at the appointed time of nine o’clock in the morning. I came prepared. I had my book, my coffee, my I-Pod, my pillow, a tent, some valium and a port-a-potty. The office opens promptly at nine o’clock. The line was all the way around the building.
The parking gods however were with me and I was able to squeeze in between two other cars.
I schlepped my bag of goodies and took my place in line. Looking around I realized I had forgotten to bring a chair or a shopping cart. I made a mental note to put that on my list of things for next time.

As I stood there I really didn’t know if I had everything I needed or if I had brought too much. In line next to me stood a foreign man eating something from a make-shift bar-b-que grill. It looked like a cross between a pita and a tortilla so I assumed he was an immigrant from Latvia. I was wrong. Upon inquiry I learned he was from some place called Nunadamnbidness. I am always excited to meet new people from new places so I promptly questioned him as to what he was cooking and he said it was something called a Gottohell. Well I guess we all have our odd dishes. Yes, I met many friendly people at the 9th gate of hell.

I stood trying to balance my coffee and read my book when from the fringe of the parking lot I heard “my brothers and sisters I want to speak to you of your soul. We stand here today on the cusp of heaven and hell. I am here to save your soul. Believe in him and ye shall be saved!” yelled the street evangelist from the curb. I looked around at my fellow line standers. I yelled back to the pulpiter “too late we are already there!” I didn’t mean to yell this, it just slipped out. My filter fell off and what I was thinking came out of my mouth, yet another sign of old age.
I stood and waited and moved centimeter by centimeter toward the door. (Now I just have to interject that I am horrible at the metric system and wouldn’t know a centimeter from a centipede). We moved not to the light but to the dark. It was plenty light outside and hot. After several hours of standing in the line in the hot sunshine I entered the 9th gate into the 7th level of hell. There in front of me was a large sign that stated “START HERE”. I scooted my way to the counter where I was met by one of Satan’s minions. Two cold dead eyes looked at me from a furrowed brow “do you have an appointment” asked the monotone voice. I swallowed hard and squeaked out “no”. The he croaked out “what are you here for?” I took a deep breath and said “I need to renew my driver’s license.” The zombie-like employee pulled a number from the printer and handed it to me.

I looked at the number then I looked at the sign which stated “We are now happily serving number: A0004”. I looked again at the number in my hand which said “G056”. Gosh I might get seen by the year 3014 if the inside line moves as fast as the outside line.
I waited jockeying for a seat to open so that I would no longer have to juggle my coffee, book, iPod, tent and my newly acquired shopping cart bar-b-que grill. Hey those people from Nunadamnbusiness drive a hard bargain, but I am a pretty good negotiator. I traded the porta-potty and my pillow for it. Oh and he made me throw in my bottle of Valium. I tricked him because it didn’t have Valium in it anymore, only some left over Oxy-contin from my last surgery. I sat down and looked over at the woman next to me. She was holding ticket number A0006. I felt just like Michael Keaton in Beatlejuice only there was no witch doctor sitting next to me holding the next number in line. I looked at the crowd in the waiting room and asked my seat partner “so are you here to get your driver’s license renewed?” She looked at me and rambled something off in a language I not only didn’t recognize but sounded like it might have been Martian. She clicked and clucked and spit and then turned back to giving the woman behind the counter the stink eye. I immediately turned back to my book trying not to be caught in the death rays of the Martian stink eye.
Finally after several hours of checking the screen every 5 seconds; I looked up at the screen and up popped “We are now happily serving G055”. My excitement was barely manageable. I started gathering my belongings and turning the hotdogs on the grill. I was ready to head to the next available clerk. Then the screen changed and it read “We are now happily serving C0010.” WHAT? Wait what happened? We skipped back to C? Why? What fresh hell is this? I looked to my right and the Martian lady was non-plussed. I looked to my left and the 85 year old man was snoring loudly while holding one of my charred hotdogs in his hand. I wanted to protest but to whom? I took a deep breath remembering to place my tongue in the roof of my mouth and draw the air deeply into my lungs just like my cardiologist told me to. I mean honestly I didn’t want to have a heart attack there in the DMV and loose my place in line. I relaxed my shoulders and settled back into my molded plastic chair. I started reading once again about the Tazingy fly, hey it was the only book I could find in my library in the car, and settled into my fate.

Then I heard the Martian lady cluck several times then she clicked and my eyes were drawn to the screen. “We are now happily serving G056” brightened the screen. I jumped up and in my excitement yelled “BINGO!” I lugged my stuff to window number 6 where I was met by yet another DMV Zombie. Now I just have to ask where you think they find all these zombies. Do you think they are zombies when they are hired or do they turn into them after working there for a specified period of time? What does the want ad look like for the position? “You too can be a zombie! Apply at your local DMV TODAY! Be ALL the Zombie you can be.”

Anyway that is how I spent my birthday.


Ms Martyr said...

Oh Gladys, move to Alaska. Our driver's licenses are renewed automatically by mail as long as you have a good driving record. I've only had to go to the DMV about four times in 30 years. They discourage face to face - you are actually charged more if you renew your vehicle registration in person as opposed to mail or over the Internet.

Suzy said...

That was one of your funniest posts EVER. And Happy Birthday...

otin said...

Happy birthday! If the DMV is that bad, you must live in Jersey! lol!

Nanny Goats In Panties said...

Nice parking job, but good god, please tell me you didn't really have to go to the DMV on your birthday. DMV is suck.

p.s. Happy Birthday!

Couture Allure Vintage Fashion said...

Happy birthday, Gladys! I hope the rest of it was wonderful

Caution Flag said...

You are wonderful! Belated happy birthday:) Hope you got out of there in time to eat a gallon or six of ice cream.

Sally said...

Oh my,how very funny!!!!!!

I'm having a giveaway this week on my blog in memory of my 17 year old grandson who passed away a year ago Weds. If you or anyone you know might be interested, it's for a skateboard.


Love your blog.

Tranquility said...

Oh dear - you've just reminded me that I'm back in Washington and will have to go through renewals again. I suddenly miss Arizona and it's practically life long license. ;)

Well, I hope you had a happy birthday anyway!

Anonymous said...

Hi! Happy Birthday! I can't believe you spent your b-day at the DMV. You should get to re-celebrate your birthday any old way you want to.

I think we have auto-renewal of drivers' licenses in Illinois, too. If we don't, I'm in BIG trouble!

I agree with Suzy. This was one of your funniest posts ever.

Happy Birthday!!

Katherine Aucoin said...

We can renew our licenses on line. I did have to endure your hell getting my oldest her learner's permit.

Happy Birthday Gladys!

Gladys said...

Thank you all for the love and best wishes. What I didn't tel you was shortly after leaving the DMV I had to enter the 9th level of Hell throught the 7th Gate. Yes I had to go to the Scoial Security Office. They had the wrong name on my card. Funny I was beginning to feel like a Broonhilda Garcia.

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