I approach the enormous black lady at the counter who looks like sheβs got a real good attitude about life. She pretends not to see me for a full sixty seconds as she peals an old piece of scotch tape off the base of her monitor for no apparent reason. βYou need a little Goo-Gone?βΒ I hilariously ask. She doesnβt respond at all. ββ¦I always carry some with meβ¦.β More loud silence. βAnywayβ¦ Iβm number G-174, do you have any idea about how long Iβll be here?β
I donβt know why she felt the need to remind me that I was in the DMV, there were signs all around me. βI tried to make an appointment but the first available time was two months from now.β Β I hung in there for another fifteen seconds or so until I realized she won, our time together was over and so I went back to my seat.
Iβve been driving with an expired license for the past 180 days or so. Sometimes drunk, sometimes high, but always worried Iβm going to get pulled over and have to wrestle the cop to the ground, steal his gun, shoot him in the face, eat some of his flesh and move down to Tijuana to βlay lowβ for a bit.
The thing with the DMV is the place is filled to the brim with the absolute dregs of society. Thereβs not one attractive person at the DMV, a lot of people are missing teeth and thereβs a lady standing next to me who smells like a hundred dicks. Arrogant or not, Iβm 100% sure that Iβm better than everybody in the building and I should be receiving VIP treatment. I donβt know, maybe the Nazis were onto something, ya know?
Oh, the DMV is an excellent place to bring both your baby who is one week old and screaming constantly along with your two year old daughter who canβt sit still and is running all over the place with mud all over her face pulling the forms out of peopleβs hands. I want to hurt her.
Every time that announcement is made I check my ticket as if Iβm miraculously going to be next. I know Iβm G-174, I just havenβt come to terms with it. I think somewhere deep down inside I actually believe that god is going to change my number to 103 or 104 right before I look down at it. You know, because Iβm such a good person and all. βIf you do that god I promise I wonβt tell anyone that you did it, itβll be our little secret and also Iβll start believing in you.β And then out of nowhere, to my surprise, it happened. MY NUMBER ACTUALLY CHANGED! Oh wait, no it didnβt, because Iβm at the fucking DMV in Los Angeles. At 11:30 am. On a Monday. #myreality
Itβs interesting to see whoβs driving on the same roads as me and wonder why Iβm not dead. Β Every five minutes or so the same seventy-year old Korean man wearing a FILA windbreaker and a 2001 Lakers championship cap which looks like someone placed it on his head without him knowing it, comes up to me and points to a bunch of different forms in his hand while saying βForm, form, formβ¦βΒ I direct him over to my fat black lady friend who was so helpful to me.
After 2 hours of constantly repeating the phrase, βI canβt fucking believe this,β under my breath, my number is finally, βmiraculouslyβ called. βNow serving number G-174 at window number eleven.β Thank you, god.
I get up there, pay my thirty-one dollars and they then move me over to another line, where they explain that Iβll be taking a photo for my new license today. What the hell did you just say? NO! I look like shit right now. I donβt want to be stuck with a busted picture of myself for the next 10 years. My kids will think I was a loser. Theyβll take advantage of me and theyβll be disrespectful. Plus, if Iβm ever in a fire, and my face is burning off theyβll see my license and be like, βthis guyβs really attractive, letβs try harder to save him than we normally would.β
βWait I wasnβt ready.β
βNo, I wasnβt ready, Miss, you didnβt say cheese.β
βWe donβt say cheese, sir and we donβt retake the pictures, NEXT!
βGo take your test.β
βTest? What test?β
At the top of the page in big bold letters it says, β3 OR FEWER ERRORS ALLOWEDβ (or you donβt get your license).Β Thereβs a total of 18 questions! And none of them are βwhat do you do at a red light?β This is an actual question taken from the test:
#17. Β You must make a written Report of a Traffic Accident Occurring in California (SR 1) to DMV if you:
A.Β Β Β Β Fail to pay your registration fees within 90 days of receiving your renewal notice
B.Β Β Β Β Are involved in a collision and there is more than $750 in damages
C.Β Β Β Β Allow a licensed driver from another state to drive your vehicle.
I mean, βAβ makes the most sense to me right off the bat because they might not have your information on file if you forgot to renew it, but then βCβ could work too. Iβve been in a few accidents and Iβve never made one of these reports before. I should probably keep that to myself. But then again, what the fuck is an SR 1? Am I the only guy in California who doesnβt know that? And as far as βBβ goes, what accident DOESNβT cost more than $750? Hmmm. Β For βCβ I figure itβs gotta be THAT personβs responsibility to file a report, right? God, I wish I had my TI-82 with me, it had all the answers. I guess βAβ makes the most sense then. Iβll go with βAβ