I was fine the first thirty minutes. I sat in a somewhat dirty chair and was careful not to touch it with my hands... I positioned myself by a screen and watched for my number it was on B089 and my number was B216. While waiting more and more people took seats around me. It wasn't too bad until an elderly lady and her husband sat down right next to me.
It smelled like she was wearing expired perfume. The thought that came to mind was decomposing roses and alcohol. I started to feel sick, I looked around the room. It was crowded, I was surrounded by people. If I stood up I would lose my chair and move into undefined space... and then someone could definitely invade my personal space. I was frozen in stink and couldn't decided to move or not. So I went into my defensive position, I covered my nose with my shirt. OK I totally admit I'm a weirdo, but its better than a freak out.
I started to distract myself by finding something nice to look at. Unfortunately, there is nothing visually pleasing inside the DMV. All the cubicles, counters, and chairs are either grey or blue - its depressing. The floor has orange flakes in it (my favorite color) it also has black flakes in it (a nice contrast to orange...), but it was surrounded by fake cement? Yuck who would pick this flooring and why? Did they purposely try to make it ugly... As I contemplated this the elderly couple moved on, but now I had a headache starting...
Forty five minutes into my wait even more people are crammed into the room and it is so noisy. I have to keep looking at the floor because I can't stand to look around even at the number screen. So I can't plug my ears because then I wont hear my number...
And then IT happened.
A lady with exposed feet came and stood right in front of me. It was ghastly her feet were over flowing out of her flip flops and dirty.
I couldn't handle it I closed my eyes and covered my face with my paperwork just in case my eyes unconsciously should open and I would see the feet again. I felt like humming to help with the noise, but I had to hear my number and I didn't want anyone calling the loony bin... I could hear them call number B209. I started to tell myself I would be up there soon. But seriously, it was all I could do to keep from running out of the door.
When they called my number I felt shaky and my head was pounding. I jogged to the appropriate cubical and found I couldn't register my car because it needed to be smogged.
Oh sweet Jesus please let my husband finish this for me, thank God he puts up with me...
4 comments:
What did you mean your car needed to be "smogged"? I'm sorry the DMV was so icky. I hate crowded places full of icky smells, sights and sounds. Sounds like you were in your own personal hell. Do you have any other DMV's you can go to in your area that are nicer or less busy? I have been known to travel a half hour out of my way to go to a different branch because I just can't handle being in an icky environment.
Hi Queenbuv3 I live in California. Getting a car "smogged" means checking the vehicle emissions to make sure that they are within the legal limits to drive the car in California. Unfortunately, most DMVs are like this. I just know I can NEVER go back without an appointment. If you have an appointment the wait time is only about five minutes.
So, that is what it is like for our kids . . .
I guess I will not complain about living in the Shire because getting through DMV is pretty easy . . .
We don't get to make appts at our DMV. I hate it!! You did better than me Bonnie. If I can't put myself in another place I am so out there. I will pay whatever I got to to be out of there. Hope ur hubby can handle the next trip. It's not worth it to go through it again.
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