Last week I took off from work early to cart the teenager over to the DMV so he could take the written test and get his learner's permit. This in itself is proof positive of two undeniable facts; I'm getting old (which really needed no further confirmation, thank you very much) and I am a glutton for punishment.
We rolled in and were greeted by a line of about 50 or so people extending out the door and around the side of the building. In a not unrelated development, there was absolutely no available parking. Had the dumbasses in line made appointments (like the one that we were in imminent danger of missing) then they wouldn't have had to stand in line and I wouldn't have had to circle the parking lot three times before finally giving up and parking at the gas station across the street. I really hate people sometimes.
After convincing the security puke to let us in the fun began in earnest. First of all, it was more crowded than I've ever seen, and smelled like it too. Considering the thankless (but extremely well compensated) jobs the people there were performing, they weren't as surly and sullen as could be expected, especially since their clientele wasn't the sharpest, as evidenced by the failure to mail in their registration paperwork on time, or to make a bloody appointment! Bitter? Yes I am.
Stand in this line. Fill this out. Go wait over there until your number is called.
A half hour later, it finally was. Good thing too, because if I had to listen to the screaming baby with the indifferent mom for one more second I was going to commit random acts of violence upon personnel and property. Which would have been unfortunate as it would have delayed the process longer. I had somewhere to be later; the police station wasn't it.
Another line, this time to receive the testing materials. Progress! More waiting, this time with no place to sit.
6 missed out of 46. 8 allowed. I am now the proud parent of a semi-licensed driver. My life has officially become more complicated.
I am so not ready for this.
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