I had to go there to fix something with my CDL today.
Here is what I hate: I hate the fact that there are all facets of humanity esconsced inside a seventy-by-seventy. But, what I dislike more, is that the groups of chairs are set facing one another. Facing one another. Why?
It's a human thing: no one wants to make eye-contact; everyone is staring at the ceiling or out the windows or at the passers-by.
I want to ask just one measly question: why could not the seats be set up like a third-grade classroom? Hmm? It'd be great! All seats facing one way. Towards the teachers (the DMV lovlies) and there'd be no uncomfortable eye-contact! It's a win-win! And they could have little posters on the walls. For instance, they could have a kitten clinging to a tree branch and the caption could read "Hang in there, bub." Or they could have another one of a walrus, all tusky and shit, saying (in a talk-bubble), "What? Me worry?" It'd be great. And then maybe also they could have sheets of scrap paper and crayons of every color. That'd be boss! We all could color!
We have to sit there, not-eyeing each other for--at the least--thirty-three minutes.
And then, if one has to take a snapshot for his or her license, he or she has to shake off the thirty-plus minutes of stranger-gazing, and look good for the computer camera. It's just bad business, in my humble opinion. It is hard to do.
One thing I like, though? I like that they--perfunctorily, at best, but, sure, yes--they show you the snapshot of your mug and ask you, "Is this aw'ight?" You have a millisecond to persuade them to take another shot. Um.
Me, though? I don't give a hoot. Whatever. My license pictures always suck, so why the heck would I want to "buck the trend," as it were? Exactly. I wouldn't dream of it.
Today, I went there after seven hours of PURE sweating--the other hour was transit time. I was dirty and sweaty--and perhaps smelly--but I didn't care a whit. I smiled like it was the Fourth of July or New Years. Big red-faced teethy smile/snarl at the web-cam.
The woman asked me, "You like?"
I said, "You know what? It's better than the las--wait a second! That's actually not too too bad! Cool."
She informed me that the license would be coming in the mail a couple of weeks and I said, again, "cool," and I walked out the door, free from the prison of El Dee Em Vee.