Never Again...

Somehow, we set aside the registration notification for the Grand Cherokee...found it last night shoved behind a stack of Cake's paperwork. She jumps on the DMV website to get the registration updated. Can't do it...why? Needs to be done on online 10 days before the tag expires, that's fair.

I tell Cakes', "I don't worry honey, I'll run over to the DMV in the morning and do it in person."

Check the hours on the website, 8A-5P. Not a problem. Up this morning at 5:30, make coffee, check the news on line, read the LA Times, drink more coffee and eat a piece of toast. In the shower, shave, put on khakis and blue t-shirt and I'm out the door, I arrive at the DMV at 8:15.

I can't find a place to park, the lots full. The line stretches out the door for a half a block. Jesus. I park a block away in the courthouse parking lot, walk back to the DMV and get in line. It's 8:23.

A woman in line ahead of me is reading her Kindle, I kick myself in the ass for not bringing mine. The line moves at a glacial pace, it's getting hot, the DMV office is nicely landscaped and there are trees about 50 feet ahead of where I am, of course the people close to the trees move off the sidewalk and line up under the trees. I can't wait because I'm standing one the sidewalk in the hot and getting hotter sun.

Just in front of me in line is a Hispanic guy, he's studying the commercial driver's manual. A woman in nursing scrubs double parks a gray Honda sedan, hops out, runs over and hands him a large coffee. She gives him a hug and a kiss and runs back to the Honda. The guy looks at me and says, "My wife, she's a good girl." I tell him, "Yes, she is."

In my head I'm thinking the smell of his coffee is driving me crazy, I could really use a cup. 5  minutes go by, he looks at me pulls the plastic top off the cup and asks, "You want to finish this?" I nod enthusiastically and take him up on his offer. The coffee was great, perfect in fact. Now I have a friend in line. His name is Ricardo.

Ricardo was brought here from Nicaragua , when he was 6. His father was in the Army and was faced with the choice of becoming a Contra or a Sandinista, since members of his family were on both sides, Ricardo's family got out. They were granted asylum, moved first to Fresno for farm work, then moved here and worked construction. Ricardo drives truck for a company that does highway demolition, they rip up the old pavement, load it up, take it to a crusher and then recycle it to be used for base material when the road is repaired and repaved. He's been working for the company for 24 years. My new friend has two sons, both born here, one just got out of the Navy and the other is a senior at Cal State Northridge, his daughter is in high school and wants to be a nurse like her Mom. Ricardo and his family travel to Nicaragua yearly, he says since 9/11 and now trump es un hijo de puta or it's a son of a bitch.

Ricardo and I talked about baseball, he loves the Dodgers, we talked about Alexis Arguello, the World Champion boxer, when we finish we're finally at the door. The line breaks down into two groups, one group goes left, the other right. Ricardo and I go left to wait in the line for window 7.

It's 11:39. We've been in line for over 3 hours.

It takes 20 minutes to get to window 7, Ricardo get's sent to the testing area, I get sent to the waiting area, all the seats are taken. I do have a number now, BB0036. The last BB number called was BB0010.  How the hell long is this going to take?

A number gets called, a woman gets up and heads to window 3. I take her seat. I'm so stiff from standing I can hardly sit down. Out of the corner of my eye I see an old guy, I'd seen him in line, he's using a walker. He's looking for a seat. I give him mine. He looks exhausted and on top of that he looks like he's at least 90. He's got liver spots on liver spots, a wispy white beard and hair and he's wearing those old man Nikes with the velcro straps, I stand he sits we talk, he's 77. His voice is so weak I need an ear trumpet. Nice guy. I'm thinking, "Holy Shit, I hope I don't start sliding down hill like him over the next 5 years."

It's almost 12:20, they've called 2 BB numbers in 15 minutes. There's a side door, I walk around the building for a few minutes. I hit the rest room, pee and wash my face and hands, there are no towels, I have to swivel the hand dryer up and blow the water off my face.

I finally get a seat again, I do yoga moves on my neck and arms, I jiggle my legs. I'm sitting looking at the backsides of people doing the paperwork at the windows. I see some huge asses, young and old asses, some are really big and if your ass is that big, why would you wear yoga pants?

I notice most people are wearing some kind of athletic shoes or sandals. One woman has on dressy flats. Not one guy has on dress shoes.

There are kids waiting to take their behind the wheel driver's test, are they nervous. So are their parents. One Mom and daughter combo are interesting because the mom is wearing clothes you'd think a 16 year old would wear, her daughter is dressed like a 40 year old mom. maybe they simply decided to change things up this morning. Mom has a heck of a set of fake boobs and she's proud of them.

I'm starting to lose it, it's 25 after one. This is insane, I've been here for 5 god damn hours!. I text Cakes, tell her I may not be home for dinner, could she bring me a sandwich or something.

I hear BB0033, in a couple of minutes I hear BB0034, immediately they call BB0035, they call it again, they call it two more times. Hot damn a no show. They call BB0036.

I got to window 3 as fast as I can on my stiff legs. The DMV kid says "Hey how you doin' sorry about the long wait, it's always like this on the last day of the month." He has spiked hair and a huge earring. I hand him the paperwork, he looks it over. After he prints out the new registration, I initial a copy. I run my card, he gives me my new registration and tag. I thanked him and he smiled. It took 90 seconds.

It was 1:32pm