LIFE AT THE DMV
September 9, 2002

Yesterday, while I was out "sick" from work, I decided to head over to the local North Carolina DMV to get my license replaced with one that has my new address on it. I actually moved back in January, but when I tried to renew my license online, I received a letter stating that my picture was not found in their computer system and I would have to trek my way to the nearest DMV location to have my ID replaced. I dreaded this trip, so I waited until I had some "free" time.

I arrived at the DMV at 10:30. I knew there would be a line, so I planned on being at the office for about an hour. I weaseled my way within the line and arrived at the counter at 10:47 (so said my "next in line" number assigned to me). I was now A034 and was directed to sit in a small wooded desk -- one of twenty antique desks left in the state. I sat my ass on the hard wooded seat and waited while A028 and A029 were called to the front. Then, C005 and B078 were called to different stations. I got confused, but then realized the codes were based on the need of the person.

As I sat there, I reviewed each of the DMV "examiners". Every single one of them were over-weight (and presumably overpaid). In addition, each examiner was over the age of 40 and wearing horned rimmed glasses. I begin to wonder if I had stepped back into the early 1960s. Even the rude methods they used when speaking to non-English speaking Hispanics gave me cause to believe I was in hell.

Soon, A030 and A031 were sitting at the counters being serviced. Time was slowly ticking by while more and more people filled the lobby. I am surprised there weren't any screaming kids. There are ALWAYS screaming children in areas where more than one type of people congregate. As I sat there I determined the demographics of the room (70% Hispanic, 20% black, 5% white, and 5% other). I was quite surprised by my findings, and wondered if the growth of the county's stats was moving in this direction? If so, the state had better begin to hire more Spanish speaking examiners, rather than imply the rude and bigoted white-only males that were found in the DMV.

My mind was still racing and day-dreaming when the head examiner announced that the computers had "gone down" and they had no idea how long it would take before they would be rebooted. I instinctively looked that the clock: 11:23. Already, I had waited almost an hour for a copy of my license, and began to wonder when the next time I would ever get the energy to make it back to this dreaded DMV again. I decided to wait a little while longer.

By 12:00, the two people in front of me had decided to give up the wait and leave. Now I was NEXT in line, but how long would that wait be? I decided if the computers were not up by 12:15 I would exit and drive back home to watch sleazy afternoon television. I opted to stay past that point and stay just a little longer. After all, I was next in line. At 12:43 the computers came back up. I woke up from my DMV hibernation and walked up to the counter when they called my name. Even though we had just waited for more than hour, DMV Examiner Barney Fife, was in no hurry to serve me (or anyone else). After a few minutes of typing, he fixed my information and directed me to the photo booth (which was in full view of the whole room). Even though I was tired and my mind was warped, I mustered a smile across my face. Soon I discovered he must have taken the picture right when I sat down in the photo chair. Why? Because after I was handed my license and turned toward the exit, I notice my face was smile free. Obviously this will be the visual reminder of my 2 1/2 hour brush with hell.