Tuesday, April 20, 2010
I had to go to the DMV, or the Department
of Motor Vehicles. I think I would rather be put
on a rack. I had a appointment for 9:40 AM.
Because California is so broke all of our government
offices are closed most Fridays, so I guess it makes
Mondays a bear. I knew it was going to be bad when
I can't find a parking place and the doors are open with
people spilling out onto the sidewalk in a line.
I find the parking place, but climb out very carefully,
because I drive a huge car. The cars on either side
of me are huge too so we took up a lot of room.
I walk inside and there is a cue line just to get a number.
I wait in the line and because I am thinking I will pretend
to be Charles Dickens and I will be conducting character
studies for my next book, I find it to be a grand adventure.
As I stand there I notice that just about everyone is very
patient and very kind. A gal comes in and looks at me and says
is this the line? I smiled sadly at her and say, " No, you have to go
down there and around the corner." She says," But I have a
appointment?" I said," I do too but you still have to get a number."
She says okay and walks down to the end of the line that is out the door.
I stand there and the line is moving pretty fast, as I am standing there
a scruffy looking, long haired, dirty, rude guy, shoves through the line,
in front of the sweet couple asking questions about their car, he interrupts,
The very patient woman behind the counter, stops, listens to his tirade
answers him kindly, as" he yells about being disabled and no he will not
wait in line." She hands him a form and he cusses to himself as he
walks back to who knows where, there wasn't any chair in the place
that wasn't taken. (Think Fagin.)
I get to the counter, tell the lady my business and she gives me a number
and I make my trek to the other side of the building.
I am looking at people who don't want to be there any more than I do so
I just smile and they all smile back. I get to my window,
and they call the number I give her the paper work and
she gives back some more so then I go to the other end
of the building to wait.
As I am standing there, the security guard walks up and
starts telling me about this tiny little lady who is 96 and
she has just flunked her drive test. Soaking wet she might
of weighed 75 pounds. He says, " I couldn't do these people's
job, they have to tell her now she can't drive, all she does is
drive to the store once in a while and to church." She was
really spry and she gets one more try. She was crying and
I wanted to just go give her a hug, but how would that look?
I should of just did it and forget how it would have looked.
I am still standing there when this poor Mom with two babies
in a stroller and two maybe 4 and 6 year old boys is trying to
take her written test. The baby is really sick, the boys are
just being boys but were pretty well behaved for having to wait.
She doesn't pass so they give her another test and she takes the
stroller with the sick baby on her hip back to the testing area
to take another test, I wanted so badly to say, " Here let me
take the kids while you take the test" but she would think
I am some sort of sicko or something. See a pattern here,
I worry to much about what people think.
So as I stand there, another lady walks up and starts talking
to me and asks me how many kids do I have and I tell her and
she laughs and says, " That is really different, you don't see many
white woman with six kids." I just laugh and we just chat
about lines and things like that.
The security guard stops by again to ask me was I almost finished
and I told him I was, and he said, " that it isn't really that busy
most of the time. " I thought, you must be from a different
place because I have never been here when it was any different.
So then I was finished and it was time to go home. I had to become
just me and think about getting my laundry finished and the house
cleaned and taking something out of the freezer for dinner.
I had to teach some school today, even though the boys thought
it should be a holiday.
I was back to being Kim again and not Charles Dickens out for
his nightly stroll meeting the people who show up in his novels.
Life is fun.