I don't bitch about public services (and yet here I go)

Teresa and I had a busy day today. A busy day of waiting.

We went to the Colorado Department of Motor Vehicles in a very nice little strip mall in Aurora, Colorado. We both needed to get a Colorado driver's license. T does some research and finds that Ohio is among the states that Colorado recognizes in some sort of category, meaning I don't need any further documentation besides my Ohio license. Rock and roll. Texas isn't in that category (I always knew it was a foreign country) so Teresa brings her birth certificate and Social Security card. Off we go.

We arrive between 2:00 and 2:30. We are given little white numbers, the kind that come on big rolls. She is 511. I am 512. They are serving 211 or so. Rows of chairs are filled with all sorts of people. I'd say at least 150 people waiting, maybe more. Okay, we lean against a wall and wait.

Stand-up comedians seem required to take shots at the DMV. I think it falls after race and gender jokes, but before "my crazy family" jokes in the list of required bits. I always took the jokes with a grain of salt, since my experiences at the Cuyahoga Falls DMV (Lillis Avenue by Graham and State) were always relatively sane. But now I see the sad error of my naivete.

We waited until about 4:00, when Teresa decided she was hungry. She went to a sub place down the street, and I sat staring at the "Now Serving" sign, which seemed to be stuck permanently around 240. At one point, I glanced at the guy next to me, and saw he was holding 412--exactly 100 spots ahead of me. I think my exact thought process was Fuck shit dogshit fucking hell, but we just chatted for a minute about whether or not we liked waiting (no and no were our votes).

Teresa came back with subs, and our white middle-class guilt led us to sit outside to eat. That's where we met Jesus Christ Reincarnated, a nice middle-aged woman from Liberia. She had an awesome accent and she had just finished in the DMV, learning that her daughter had to be with her and she'd waited hours for nothing. She'd be back tomorrow.

She was Jesus Christ Reincarnated because she had a handful of wadded-up numbers, given to her by people who didn't have time to wait. She fished them out of the trash to give to us and bumped us from 511 and 512 to somewhere in the mid-400s. A college-age guy sitting out there with us moved up, too, and pretty soon we were scouring the parking lot looking for something better. Then another younger guy handed me 399, and I passed off my 512 and 467 to somebody new.

We wandered around trading our numbers for a while, then headed back inside to give away our higher numbers. Teresa wound up at 322 and I was at 372, and our new friend--Rashad, who goes to Metro College very close to my school--was at 365. Then Teresa just switched with him, since she was my ride and it didn't make sense to go so far ahead of me. She even passed on his offer of $5 to trade. What a little angel who missed a chance at $5.

Then 5 PM rolled around, and we'd been there three hours or so. They locked the doors, leading to several irritating instances when someone tried to get in, only to have a DMV employee bark way too harshly at them. Christ, chill out, Mr. Jump-to-Conclusions Mat, they don't have a number so you won't be serving them anyway. At this point they're at maybe 305. I think, if we hadn't moved up in numbers I would just have to kill everyone in this place. I have no means to do this. Clearly, I have gone insane.

Eventually they called Rashad--I clapped a little but nobody noticed--and then they called T and then they called me. I believe I got called at 5:35, putting our wait at 3 1/2 hours, or way under average, based on what we heard from other people. I stepped up to a heavier woman with long, dyed-blonde dreds. Somehow she was very nice, even though she'd been dealing with people waiting over 5 hours all day.

I told her that I just needed a Colorado license, here's my valid Ohio one, and I think that's all I need, right? She says, let me see here, W-E-I-S-H-A-M-P-E-L, and Steven, and--oh, this doesn't have your middle name on it. Do you have something with your middle name on it? Actually, it would need to be a birth certificate or a Social Security card.

Hahahaha, good one, blonde dreadlock lady. That is truly humorous. Give me a Colorado license or I will eat your spine.

I can't get the license today. She fills out some kind of "Incomplete Application" form and gives it to me. I take it between sobs, and off we go. But wait! Blonde Dreds has written at the top "No line wait"!! She even underlined it!! "No line wait." It's right there!!!! I kissed her on the mouth and then she called the next number in line. I walked away singing her praises.

Teresa got her picture taken and we were out of there by around 6. As we left I thought, See you tomorrow, Tom Smykowski. See you tomorrow, Blonde Dreds. See you tomorrow, loads of people who should bathe as often as possible.

It's going to feel so good to get there tomorrow, flash my little "No line wait" and march right to the counter. I can probably hold back the tears, but I just might shriek with delight as we leave.

Now, I just need something to do with all that extra time I'm going to have.