I was already having a tough week and then it was capped off with a near death experience, or at least one that made me almost want to kill myself - going to the DMV to get my license renewed.
Now I really have an understanding of why people always look so bad on their driver’s license pictures after having to endure the torture chamber that is the DMV.
First, I had to wait in a line just to get in the building which meant standing in the hot Las Vegas sun. That would account for the radiating glow on my face in the picture. Or maybe I should, more accurately, call it a radiation glow from the sun.
What made the wait in the line even more intimidating was the fact that I saw people going into the building, since the line did move, even if at a snail’s pace, but I hardly saw anyone coming out. It made me wonder what was happening in there. I figured there was some kind of government conspiracy going on where they drug and hypnotize you and tell you won’t remember this. Then they tell you taxes are good, Obamacare is good, Cap and trade is good. Hmm…now that I think of it, I don’t remember any of that happening so maybe it was just the drugs and hypnosis working. But, luckily, if that did happen it didn’t work well because I think those ideas are more stupid than ever…Again, hmm…very interesting.
Once you do get into the building you are herded like cattle to numerous lines and made to fill out various forms in triplicate, etc. I’m not sure where the drugs and hypnotism came in but that just validates the theory because they tell you won’t remember.
Up until a few days before I went they were making you show your birth certificate and two forms of ID that show your residence so the federal government can better keep track of you. Luckily that is not now being required, at least for the time being. I asked a lady there why they stopped doing that. She told me in a very cryptic voice, “We decided we don’t need it. We already know how to find you.”
After my stomach stopped churning from that comment I got to sit and wait, which was only a slight improvement from standing and waiting. Fortunately, I had the foresight to pack a lunch and bring a pillow. They didn’t really mind that because it kept me from complaining but what they frowned upon was when I wanted to change into a fresh set of clothing after my nap. That brought a visit from the security guards.
The ultimate insult is at the end of this entire day–killing incident is that you have to pay them to get your license and complete the torture. That’s like changing your baby’s diapers and you know they are just going to crap in them again anyway. Okay, not the best analogy, but the crap part rings true here.
I must say it was quite a relief to know I won’t have to go back there for another eight years, at which time I will need to get a new picture taken for my license. That is unless they tell me to come back in 4 years because the drugs and hypnotism have worn off too soon. Not that I remember it…hmm.
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