I'm not sure what it means when I walk into our local DMV and the ladies behind the counter remember who I am. I have become quite aquainted with the two state workers with the same first name, as their name tags indicate, over the last couple of years and months. I have never understood why DMV's don't just invest in couches and recliners for those of us who are fully prepared with official paperwork in hand, yet have to wait for the young ruffians who don't know what a title is. Now, before I really go off on this rant I must admit that I was once that young man fumbling with my papers and words.But I think it is just one of those univeral experiences that all humans have, waiting at the DMV. It is almost a rite of passage kind of thing. If you go to the DMV and don't have to wait around then you havn't experienced what you were suppose to. Your shear will has not been tested as it must; and those wonderful character qualities we all love called patience, perseverence and determination do not get fully developed without the help of the DMV. Ah, the beauty of the local DMV.
In a very sick way I have come to enjoy my local DMV, especially when I finally have all the right paperwork... with all the right signatures... at just the right time of day; only then do I thank the good Lord above for my fully registered vehicle.
2 comments:
Yes, I have gone through the rite of passage you speak of, and I have gathered wisdom in my advancing age. Now I delegate trips to the DMV to my little brother.
Ah, the art of delegation, I need to learn that one. Actually, on this last trip, when I finally got to the counter, the lady said, "I like customers like you, you've obviously done your homework, everything is laid out perfect." It's all about preparation! Thanks for getting me all prepared for success.
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