By Beauty Damned

Absentee Blogger

I have been neglecting my ongoing blog thingy.

Too much going on in real life to pay attention to computer life. I've been writing alot by hand...on the train or whenever I have a spare minute. Scribbling down the daily goings ons and whatever else might come to mind. Like I used to do. Writing til my hand hurts. So deep in thought that I forget I'm writing...like I do here, but different because it's indelibly private and vastly different from writing and knowing that whatever you write, somewhere, somehow, it's going to be read by someone. Writing in a journal isn't like that. The person on the train might have a drifting gaze which often wanders to my page as I write, but it's generally quite a private matter.

Real life has been a little more dramatic the last couple of weeks than I'd like...bothersome co-workers, online "friends" becoming estranged, real friends rematerializing, living a nightmare in the DMV during my lunch hour...

Yeah, that was today. I went to the DMV during my lunch hour and after three phone calls and two attempts at the DMV to get a NY driver's license, holding in my hand the entire time a copy of my driving record, original social security card, original birth certificate, marriage certificate, pay stubs & tax forms as proof of address, photo identification and a host of other pieces of identification, and after standing in line for a total of about 4 hours, the cruel, degenerate ogres who work in every DMV in America told me that the driving record was not sufficient because it had been printed up from an email which the Oregon DMV sent me at the cost of $15.00. Apparently, it needs to be printed on DMV letterhead, despite the fact that it has EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY piece of information listed on it that any DMV personnel would need in order to identify me as a valid driver in the state of Oregon. But because this is New York, where, believe it or not, they are still living in the fucking stoneage when it comes to technology in the DMV, they could not fathom that this driving abstract could be valid if it had been emailed to me. So when the first guy at the first window told me he couldn't accept it, even though the last time I came to the DMV and the last three times before that when I called them, it was perfectly sufficient, this time that particular document was apparently NOT sufficient. I said "I don't understand. Last time they said it was fine, now you're telling me that it's not 'official' enough?" He said "I can't take it, it needs to be on DMV letterhead" then another guy butted his nose in from behind the counter and said "he can't accept it, you can go talk to the supervisor if you want" but he said it reeeeaaaal snotty. So I said, "I'll do that" and he said (with shit-eating grin plastered on face) "thank you! have a nice day!" And I looked at him in the face and said "fuck you."

Then I went to the supervisor, but just as I began to speak to her, a guy from the other side of the counter where I'd just been came and whispered in her ear. I told her my problem and showed her the valid driving record which was being rejected and explained that it had been emailed to me by the Oregon DMV and that it should be sufficient as it contained all the pertanent information and then some. She said "why did you need to be rude to the man over there?" I said "because he was rude to me, but what does that have to do with the matter here, is this about my conversation with him or about official business?" She said "official business...and [something about how I cursed the other guy]." Then she looked at me pointedly and told me that she was not going to be able to accept that document. She was so high on her power trip you could feel it. Even though she had the authority to accept it and even call the Oregon DMV to verify the information, she said "you'll have to get the document mailed regular mail from the DMV in Oregon and come back later" I wanted to reach out and slap her across the face with all my might. I grabbed my documents back from her and siad "Thanks alot. Fuck you." Then I walked past all of the other windows and all of the people sitting waiting for their numbers to be called and I lifted my middle finger in the air to the other DMV employees standing behind the counter of doom and said "fuck you all". The asshole who was a prick in the first place, said (again): "Thank you! Have a nice day!" I turned to him and said "you. Eat a bowl of dick!" I enjoyed the laughter of the other patrons as I left, more enraged than anything you can probably imagine right now. And it may have been childish and it may have been crazy...but I'm glad I told the DMV to fuck off. Because I hate them. One of the guys who had initially helped me at the counter came out to the elevator while I was standing there and I asked him if employees of the DMV have to take a special class so that they can learn how to relentlessly torment other human beings. Weilding their peon power, relishing their little moments of victory and authority. It's really sickening. So I accomplished nothing except to create a spectacle...imagine that. I guess I'll never be going back there again. It's okay. Not the first time I've been 86'd.

Posted by Maria at August 6, 2003 10:33 PM | TrackBack