I wrote it down in ink, so that I would not forget, and vowed not to come up with excuses not to go.
My day went, as planned.
I parked the car at the mall, just outside of JCPenney - the closest
As I approached the long hallway, leading up to the "room", or what I like to
"Not good," I thought.
The only difference was that I knew what was coming.
She handed me a ticket with a number on it, as well as a form to fill out.
I walked over to the table decorated with clipboards, and while I reached out to pick the perfect one, the security guard gave me the "suspicious look-over".
I grabbed the PERFECT clipboard, surveyed the rows and rows of DESIGNER chrome and plastic blue chairs, and found a suitable enough place to sit.
Tick, tock, tick.
Two designer blue chairs over, I noticed the ticket number started with the same letter.
"Apparently, you and I are soul mates," I commented (holding up my number), laughing at myself,
as that could have easily been interpreted as a pick up line.
He was much younger than I, and fortunately, had a sense of humor.
He recognized that we were two victims, trying to find a way to pass the time, as well as ease our shared misery.
"This is my second trip in two weeks," he said, "and the first time, I was here for THREE HOURS."
"Wow," I responded. "Well, at least you brought a book."
"I learned from last time," he said, smiling. "Three hours is a LONG TIME to be staring at the back of someone's head."
He paused and continued,
".....................and the worst of it is that I just signed a lease for an apartment in D.C., so I get to do this ALL OVER again!"
"OHhhhhh, I am SO sorry to hear that. I am SURE that D.C.'s system is going to be MUCH more efficient," I commented (with sarcasm).
Just then, the voice on the intercom called out my new friend's number.
"Good Luck!" he said....................walking away.
Leaving me Behind.
To suffer.
Alone.
"Some soul mate HE turned out to be," I thought.
Somewhere behind me, in the sea of blue chairs, someone was being serenaded with the "Happy Birthday" song, temporarily transporting me to a more joyful place.
After waiting two and a half hours, my number was finally called.
"This is IT!" I celebrated. I felt like jumping up in the air, like in that 1980's car commercial (see link below), long ago.
I could see the ending in sight, as I preceded toward the counter with all of my paperwork.
"I will be right back," said the DMV employee, after looking over my paperwork.
"THAT IS NOT A GOOD SIGN," I thought.
She came back quickly, and handed me another form.
"Here," she said, "You need to take this home and fill it out,
T - H - E - N C - O - M - E B - A - C - K."
Her words were like confusing background noise in my head. They came out in slow motion, and seemed to come from way in the back of her throat, out of a loooooong, dark corridor.
I stood there staring at her, in disbelief.
"I CAN SEE YOUR LIPS MOVING, BUT I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING ! ! !"
(is what I was thinking).
In a bit of a daze, I turned around and walked out. I was tired, frustrated, and hungry.
Feeling the pain of my DMV soul mate, I said to myself,
"Yep. Two and a half hours is a LONG TIME to be staring at the back of someone's head. Guess I need to find myself a good book,"
and I took my henna tattoo clad self...................in search of some food.
"Always bring a book" has become my motto--when I go to the DMV, when I go to the hardware store with my husband, when I meet a friend for lunch . . . ANY time I'm out.
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