I know, I know. It's cliche to make fun of the DMV. All the jokes have already been made, and they weren't that funny the first time. We all know the deal: it takes forever, people there are stupid and/or foreign, etc, etc. I have no jokes about the DMV. In fact, most of my DMV experiences haven't been too bad. Matter of fact, the DC DMV was the best I've been to. I've also dealt with DMVs in Pennsylvania and Virginia, and Virginia by far was the worst.
So it is with much dread that I am facing my return to Virginia license and registration. To work there you need proof that not only were you born in a third-world country, but that English is your eighth language. Of course, that can only help when 92% of the stinky hooligans in line are also garbage-can-born Anglophobes.
Last time I was at a Virginia DMV I saw a woman who learned how to apply makeup from a circus clown. Despite her best efforts, she managed to get not a drop of color on her actual lips. She did, however, cover the rest of her face. I remember a commercial or movie from years ago, not sure which, where a woman was trying to put on lipstick in an airplane bathroom during massive turbulence. The result was lipstick all over her face. I was reminded of this, although I had a sneaking suspicion this woman applied hers in a house that experienced zero turbulence. The best part was her daughter (?) was there. She HAD to know that was not the proper way to apply makeup. But she said nothing. She said nothing.
Which brings me to my favorite game to play while at the DMV: Why Is He/She Retarded. The above example is obvious. And easy. But everyone is retarded in some way. A lot of times it's visual. A Member's Only jacket. Shirt tucked in with no belt. Velcro shoes. But other times you don't know they're retarded until they open their mouth and prove it.
And I don't mean retarded as in Down Syndrome. I mean retarded as in these people suck at life.
Anyways, I have some good times ahead of me. Can't wait.
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