The Dmv
The Dmv
The DMV
Have you ever been to the DMV? Almost everyone has had the experience. It is never by choice, but more of obligation, and is never looked forward to. Everyone dreads the DMV, which is why everyone there is in a bad mood. From snappy secretaries to irritated citizens, there is much to see at the DMV.
I had turned sixteen, and it was time to take my driving test. I was confident; I had had much practice and was a good driver. I had nothing to fear. I knew I would pass with a close to perfect score.
By not worrying about my purpose at the DMV, I was able to amuse myself with everyone else’s purpose. A moment after walking through the doors, I knew the next few hours would be interesting.
The noise hit me like a forceful wind. Conversations were limitless, coming from every corner of the building. A little boy dashed in front of me, nearly colliding into my left leg. He jumped up onto the counter and began making paper airplanes from the forms. His mother, who was rather overweight, turned in her chair and barked, “Get down!”
The boy continued to fold. This act of defiance was too much for the mother; she turned around in her seat, took a sip of Diet Pepsi, and ignored him.
It was hot and stuffy. The line seemed to wrap around forever, with people fanning themselves with the papers the boy had not gotten to yet. The air conditioner could not keep up with all the bodies in its building. This added to the irritation of being in this place.
Large signs guided the less intelligent. The most important thing was to take a number. Without that number, you would not be helped, no matter how long you waited. This was the
case with one man, who waited an hour in line, only to be sent to the back, grab a number, and start over. This did not put a smile on his face. He was filled with rage, and it scared me. If he had a gun, he probably would have started shooting. Instead, the people were hit by expletives from his mouth.
He did not realize it was his own fault, and continued to mumble to himself. Fortunately, he did not have to see the person who had sent him to the back. He finished his business and walked out, still with an expression of bitterness.
All of these events took place while I was waiting for my driving test. I knew it would be a while because there was one person ahead of me, and the instructor was at lunch. Unlike myself, the girl ahead of me looked nervous, and her face turned pale when she saw the instructor. Her judgment day had come. She walked with her head down after the instructor while her mom encouraged and reassured her.
I knew I did not have long until my turn. Meanwhile, I still had time to observe. I found it interesting how so many people cannot follow simple directions. During the next twenty minutes, at least three people went into the wrong line, and had to start over somewhere else.
Number 73 flashed on the screen. The holder was the overweight woman with the undisciplined