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Cap Mandrake -> G 131 (5/30/2008 6:24:25 PM)
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I got banned from the Islamic forum again and we can't seem to get any turns back from the bad guys so I had to entertain myself. Fortunately, I received a timely license renewal notice from the DMV.
So I drive down there on a Tuesday morning and there is no line outside. Woot! I go inside and it looks pretty civilized, sort of like a prison infirmary or something. Most of the clients dont speak English but this is Southern California so I am prepared for that. There is even a sign that says "RECEPTION". WOOT! Maybe they hired people let off from Nordstrom's. I walk up the RECEPTION lady. THERE IS NO LINE! WOOT!
"Hi, driver's, license renewal", I say and hand her my form.
"Wait for your number". she says without looking up and hands me a slip.
My joy is crushed by the harsh reality of the system. G 131! HOLY HELL! I do some quick calculations...10 to the 3rd..26 letters in the alphabet...HOLY HELL! That's 26,000! It couldn't be like at the donut shop with the "Please take a number" thing that goes up to 99 and starts over?
"Oh Dear God, please tell me the letter can only be in the first position", I say to myself. God doesn't answer. I am used to that too.
I sit down on a bank of steel framed chairs with enough welded struts to support the Saturn V. NASA surplus? As a state and federal taxpayer I am gratified to see this degree of cooperation. I try to read. It seems like it should be interesting, something on the unique physical and chemical properties of water, but I can't seem to concentrate. I glance around. The "clients" seem extraordinarily cooperative and pacific. Nobody complains. Even the toddlers sit contentedly on their mother's laps. I begin to feel an odd sense of euphoria myself.
"Phhht". My attention is drawn to a small device up at the ceiling. After a few seconds, there is another "Phhht" and faint mist emerges from the device. "Oh", I think to myself, "it's one of those automated room deodorizers". I look down the ceiling line and spot an identical device every 25 feet or so. "Phhht".
"Wow", I'm still thinking to myself, as I recall, "they must have a SERIOUS problem with rats in the roof or something". "WAIT A MINUTE!", I think I said this out loud as my neighbor looks my way slightly worried. "It's that aerosolized fentanyl the Russians invented! The BASTARDS! Dear God, please let them get the dose right."
"Phhht". It seems a bit more powerful this time. I sit down again. "What was I just thinking about?"
I try to read again, "The water molecule is composed of two atoms of Hydrogen and one of....". "Wait, two of what?", I start over. Time passes.
"BONG, G 131 to window 18, G 131 to window 18, K 242 to windown 43.....". "HEY, THAT"S ME!" I find window 18. "THIS IS IT! MY NEW LICENSE!". It's the guy who verifies your information. He looks like Toulouse-Lautrec.
"Is this your correct address, 20....".
"Yes, sir". I try to be really polite. I don't want to blow it now. He starts typing.
"Is there anything you want to change?"
"No, don't think so."
"Are you sure?", he asks and looks up,raising his little Toulouse-Lautrc eybrows.
"What the **** is that supposed to mean?", I think to myself. I feel like giving him a smart ass answer like, "oh yeah...change the eye color to red". I don't do that. I am lamb-like. I think it was the fentanyl.
He tilts his head as if to say, "well?"
"Oh, OK, put down 190".
He smiles in satisfaction and starts typing again. "Take this to window 37A".
I start off in the direction he indicates. "I let the little cretin win.....what window did he say"?....................
I got my new license in the mail. The picture makes it look like I rubbed Wesson oil on my face. I can't let Stalker Girl see it, not after I made so much fun of her picture.
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