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Yesterday I passed my cdl (commercial drivers license) driving test with flying colors. My mood was high and life was good. Until it really sunk in that I was going to have to face the horror... the agony... of DMV.
"I've been to hell I spell it... I spell it D.M.V. Everyone who's been there knows precisely what I mean. I stood there and I waited and fought back the urge to scream. And if I had my druthers, I'd screw a chimpanzee."
That song DMV by Primus goes thru my head every time I must go there. I wasn't quite annoyed enough to screw a chimp, but I was borderline homicidal.
Being unemployed for 6 months will make anyone a poor mo fo. In order to pay the $70 fee to get my cdl license I had to borrow the money. Having read the cdl manual and the page where it said $70 to get your commercial drivers license issued... I figured I was all set.
I arrive at DMV and the number currently being helped was 263. I get number 295. A normal human being with average mental capacity would assume that the number you pick makes it certain you will get called in order. This is not the case at DMV. Any fuckass can leave with their number ticket and come back later. Even if said number is 42 and was called eons before you ever arrived they don't have to wait in line. They get served right away. This also goes for spanish speaking individuals. For some reason the ability to speak english and actually waiting around for your number to be called gets you discriminated against at dmv.
I wait... and I wait... with nothing better to do than become annoyed and disgruntled and glare evily at the demon spawn that keep squealing and jumping around on the seat near me while the parents are oblivious. At this point thoughts of owning a taser and actually getting to test it on human subjects got very appealing.
My number gets called so I head up to the counter with everything I think I need. I got my wad of borrowed cash, my test scores still sealed in the envelope from the TRi-met test guy, my current license, cdl permit, and my health certificate. I even managed to smile at the woman helping me. She fucks up right off the bat, so I have to wait for another slow ass dmv guy to fix her mistake. Just as I think to myself "I'm almost done" she says she needs to collect $75. Woa wait a minute here... the offical dmv booklet states $70. So I tell her this and ask why she's charging me $75. This was clearly a mistake. I have now ruined her entire existance by asking a question she cannot answer and am now considered more lowly than pond scum or shit on a sidewalk. The only thing that kept me from using my pack as a bludgeoning device and killing her is a sticky note with her signature and a date stamp she hands me. This tiny piece of paper is my ticket out of waiting in line again. I get to be a "return" customer and get helped right away. The time is now 2:30pm. I have been up since 6am, and didn't get lunch. I am cranky.
So being as broke as I am I must now drive back to my grandparents house and look like an idiot when I ask to borrow $5 on top of the $70 I already borrowed (payday is this friday. Thank you jebus). Thank god for the world's coolest and most understanding grandparents.
Facing rush hour traffic and a parking lot jammed with cars I finally get back inside the dmv office. With my magical sticky note of power I get helped right away. I pay my money and get the paperwork to give to picture taking fuckass. He then informs me that my do-rag must be removed. This does not make me happy. I have no brush, so after the do-rag comes off my hair looks like total shit. I get my photo taken and head home. Its now like 4pm and my blood sugar is seriously fubar. Cranky is only a memory.
I get home and finally get a look at my license only to find out that I look like a troll without a neck and an extra chin the size of a truck bumper. Not only is my hair a total disaster, but once again (just like my cdl permit picture) the dmv shows its talent by over exposing and making my black shirt look a hideous orange color. How anyone could single handedly make me look so horrible is beyond me. In the current mental state I was in seeing that picture only sent me into a spiral of depression.
Other events not worth mentioning only added insult to injury. Then the univer se decided to analy penetrate me and my bank account. I find out that a debit from one of the new parking meters in downtown portland posted that day of all days. Over a month after the fact. I had assumed that the parking meter debit 2 weeks ago was the one from last month, but noooo. It was from 2 months prior. Long story short, my account got charged for 2 overdraft fees of $28. A charge on saturday that I had made thinking I had money for it to clear went thru on the same day. Badda bing badda boom... $61 in the hole. This brings me to the conclusion that yesterday was totally pointless and next time its a full moon again, I'm going to lock myself in my room and not even bother getting out of bed.
Today however, was totally uneventfull. And for that I am thankfull.
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