The Mayor of the DMV

On Tuesday, I had to go to the DMV to get my name change card. I can't remember the last time I've gone to the DMV for anything other than getting my driver's license photo taken.

I will say the people at the DMV could not have been nicer. All two of them.

Now, ask me how many people were waiting in line? Go ahead. Ask.

There were about 40 people when I arrived. Oh, and the building is about the size of a small happy meal box, and the line of people was wrapped around the building. Oh, and it was over 90 degrees outside. And there was no place to stand in the shade.

Oh, and it's the DMV, which means it's Wacko Central. Which means it's a beacon for my weirdo magnetism. The guy in front of me went into great detail about how his blood pressure was 117/172 (so I'm not sure how he's still alive), and how he got into a horrible car accident earlier in the year - which was a terrible shame. But, then, to add to the story - he had show 'n tell. Apparently the accident knocked out all his teeth, because he demonstrated to the woman in the unfortunate position of being directly behind him in line how he could drop out his top and bottom dentures. Blamo. One set of teeth drops, and then the other. Ta-da!

Ewwwwwwwww.

In addition, he was trying to make friends with everyone in line. Let me be clear: it was 90+ degrees, and it took me a total of two hours to get a name change card. I was in no mood for this guy. I managed to avoid eye contact. He did try to inform me how to do what I needed to get done - as with all the other people in the crowd. I later figured out why he was being so friendly with everyone: He needed a lift. He kept saying how he wasn't sure how he was going to get to the next town. The woman directly behind him started to give him directions, and he said, "Oh, I know how to get there. I just don't know how I'm going to get there. I hitchhiked here, and I need to hitchhike there." The guy in front of him subtlely moved as far away as he possibly could. Oy.

The woman in back of me was about the size of a Hobbit. She was just as interesting - and twice as annoying. Did I mention the heat? Well, she thought the best place to stand was right next to me. And I mean right. next. to. me. Grrr.

At one point, we were right outside the door, and the couple in front of me was kind enough to open the door so that we could get some air.

This is what happened next:
Hobbit: "Scuze meeeeeeeeee. Shut ze dooooor. Shut ze doooooooor. Hello? Scuze meeee."
Me: "Lady, we're getting air!"
Hobbit: "No, ju dun't understaaand. If dey leave ze door open, we will have no air for oos when we get in dere. Shut ze doooooor. (Repeat Shut ze doooor about 50 times.)"

I finally crawl inside, with the Hobbit attached to me.

Then:
Hobbit: "Ooo. I dun't know if I am in ze riiight line."
Me: "What are you here for?" (Obviously there were two meanings to my question...)
Hobbit: "My license expired."
Me: "You're in the right line."
Hobbit: "Are ju shure?"
Me: death glare

Then:
Hobbit: "Hey. Heeeey. Do ju know who I make ze check out to?"
Me: death glare "No, I don't."
Hobbit: "Ooooh. Cuz I dun't know who to make ze check out toooo. Ooohhh." whining ensues
Me: Ignores Hobbit for rest of the time in line.

I don't know how it happened, but I became the information center for the Hobbit. It was too darn hot for this much concentrated weirdo magnetism.

The good news is I have a new story for the book I'm writing. The better news is that I am one step closer to making my name change public. Woo-hoo!