It's a dive building in a dive strip mall in a dive part of town. I spent an enjoyable time there yesterday.
How I got there reads like a math problem.
Q: If the DMV's hours are this to this, and Wolfgang's schedule is that and that, and Mom's schedule is so and so, at what date will the three meet?
Math problems never tell the human side of the story. About the divey DMV and about how that is the only location in the county where one can get a new teen driver's license or permit. About how it is also the only location in the county where those who have had their licenses revoked can get them reinstated.
As a result, the clientele consists of happy teenagers and criminals.
There I was. With my happy teenager. I suppose that's better than being there as/with a criminal.
As most know, the DMV is never a "quick errand". Wolfgang got home shortly after the afternoon crosswalk action and we readied ourselves for the dive. He got the required paperwork together while I assembled my survival kit.
Hmm... a book? I considered bringing the 50 Shades book, but then the image that formed of me reading it in the dive DMV queue with Wolfgang, happy teens, and criminals just didn't seem right. I threw a small sketchbook in my purse and we were off.
And it wasn't all that bad. I learned a few things. I learned that the worst times to go there are summer mornings. I've been there three previous times in a little over the last two years. Always in the summer, always in the morning. Tsk Tsk. Twelve hours of my life... gone.
I learned that ankle tracking devices used for criminals were inspired by a Spiderman Comic book. I learned that when you're sitting in the DMV looking for things to look at, it's pretty hard to miss ankle tracking devices on the ankles of people wearing shorts.
I learned that DMV clerks at that location are strangely friendly, personable, and dare I say, witty. What's up with that?
Oh well, we didn't stick around to find out. We were out of there in a record time of 87 minutes. But who was counting?