I am, for the most part, an incredibly irresponsible human being. I'm almost like a mother's science experiment to show future children what would theoretically become problematic, behaviorly, if you "kept that up in your later years." Just recently, I achieved the following things:
- I did not pick up my mail once in over four months. This caused the mailman to threaten me with notes, and further, this caused many other problems to occur, like...
- I did not pay medical bills for "unknown visit to hospital because I woke up without a fingernail (true story) and a Harry Potter scar on my forehead (true-er story, and I'm kinda stoked about that one because it's a nifty scar but would really like my fingernail to hurry up already).
But most importantly?
- I did not pay my car's registration fee that was due February 23rd. Turns out that was a while ago.
I say this is the most important for a reason: This meant I would have to make a trip to the DMV.
The DMV is where hope and happiness go to die. In a really, really long line. Let me explain my trip.
Your first instinct is to go online and make an appointment. Logically, one would expect that the company that runs the "all the vehicles in the world" department might have their shit together. Wanna know when the first appointment available was?
Just in case I wanted to take care of anything, they'd be right with me in 43 days. I mean. What is this, a nightclub? Do you have a celebrity chef? Does something really cool happen, like dolphins doing the paperwork when I get there?
So you give in, put your head down and just go to the DMV office with as much of a good mood as you can afford to save up before you get there: you're gonna need it.
What's the most amazing thing about going to the DMV is the fact that there is no parking. Even though it appears people left a professional football game and came in droves immediately afterwards directly to the DMV, they thought it would probably be good enough if we just stuck to about 12-15 parking spots. Totally logical.
It's the experience on the inside though, my friends, where the true charm lies. For starters, you are given a random number that is called out like Bingo. At least hell's exciting. During your one hour wait, though, there's a lot to take in. Here is the general makeup of the people inside of the DMV.
1) Everyone is dying. No, seriously: everyone. Did you just get out of the hospital? Are you leaking blood in some way/shape/form and or do you have a cough that sounds as though you are choking up your insides? Do you appear to have some sort of a meth problem? You should probably head to get your car registered then, because everyone else is. Oh, and don't worry about covering your mouth, no one else is doing it here because we're all in hell anyway.
2) Everyone is sketchy. If they're not dying. Forget it, actually, a lot of people are dying and they're sketchy. But there isn't one person inside that office who doesn't look like someone you would expect in a police lineup. And I'm talking about the real sketchballs...people who appear to be clearly on drugs and have without question stolen at least one thing that is on their person at this moment. They presumably have a bluetooth in, just in case someone has to make an important phone call to them at 8am. Totally understandable: they look like the types with jobs.
3) Every clerk hates you. To be fair: they are working at the DMV. So, you know, I get it. You're kinda starting your day with a crappy hand at the poker table. But what's amazing is that they aren't just in a sour mood, they literally dislike every fiber of who you are and can't BELIEVE you came to the car department to ask them car questions. I imagine the interview process to be like this:
DMV Interviewer: Do you hate everything?
DMV Interviewee: Yes.
Boom. Welcome aboard the U.S.S. Department of Motor Vehicles. Show up to your shift whenever you want and feel free to never make eye contact with a customer.
4) More than 92% of the people applying for a driver's license are 4,239 years old. This is a concern to me, because if you are too old to go to the bathroom by yourself, I'd just prefer we don't lock eyes at a stop sign. Pretty sure you're not gonna follow through on the rules, there. Considering you're dying and can't see. Not being mean, but, you know: maybe sit this one out.
5) A lot of people who do not speak english really want to drive. Before you get down on me being a racist for this one, let me propose my counter-argument.
See, it's not that I'm not all for that. For the most part, if you understood the rules of driving, I'm totally cool with you being out there with us. The problem is that you don't speak English, and most of the signs that say "stop driving" on our roads are in English. I just feel like if I was in China and a sign said "停止!" I just really wouldn't know what to do. I'm guesing this would not be good for you. I mean, I'm guessing I wouldn't just presume that means "please stop."
All in all, it's never that great of an experience at the DMV. Ever. But as I talked it over with my friend Sola, she kind of summed it up.
Drew: "I mean, WHY is no one normal at the DMV? Like, not ONE person?"
Sola: "Well Drew, normal people get their mail. And usually recieve the letters the DMV sends you to prevent you from ever having to actually go to the DMV. So. You know. There's that."
And being the guy that didn't get his mail for four months...I guess I can't really argue that logic.