Call Me Virgil

This story ends fine. I don’t want you to stress. But finely as it ended, there was comedy, pathos and even terror amid things, so let us begin. Take my hand, Dante, it’s time to roll.

Yesterday I went to the DMV without an appointment. I left after 1:00 p.m. to avoid any lunch rush. Ha. 45 minutes to find a space of dubious legality half a mile away, up a hill. Then there was the standing line that stretched out of the building and around the block-- in unexpectedly blazing afternoon heat. About another hour to get my numbered ticket, but once I got into the shade I didn’t care. Not quite two hours after that I was at the window.

She wore a T-shirt that said “Bow to me”, which should have been a tip-off. The change of address displeased her, but her mood brightened when my nearsighted eye couldn’t pass the eye test. I see 20/20 with both eyes, but one contact lens is set for reading, not distance. She acted as if my license was in jeopardy then waved me to a machine at the end of the row.

“Put your forehead on that!” It was greasy and rather disgusting, but her fear tactics worked. I obeyed. “Read line one!” I did, with clarion precision, while she had a conversation with a coworker. I lifted my head. “Put your head back!” I did. “Read line two!” I did. She fiddled, it got blurry. “Line five!” I managed, she fiddled, blurrier. “Line six!” I died inside. “I can’t.” More fiddle, then clarity returned. “Line three!” Proudly, I announced every letter. She stopped talking. Timidly, I peeked out. She’d gone back to her window. I scurried. “Here’s your temporary license. Wait in line for the camera.”

Who could begrudge the next 50 minute line? I waited in a cloud of relief to be thumb-printed and processed. As 5:00 struck and the office officially closed, I watched tragedy strike. A charming old man got lost in the sardine-packed crowd looking for the window when his number was called. The employee he approached for help told him, “You have to go back and get a new number.” That broke my heart.

On the plus side, my parking space turned out to be fine. I was home by 6:00, with eight pages left to read in the book I’d brought with me.