While sitting at the DMV, holding a card with the number "284" handwritten on it, I listened to a woman read - yes, read - the numbers 196 through 201. Each person in the DMV waiting room held a card handcrafted by DMV specialists for the purpose of alerting people when their turns are up. The highly trained government employee not only needed a list to help her get through six numbers sequentially, she also assumed that everyone else would be mystified about what was meant by the words "one ninety-six through two oh one".
The funniest thing was watching people look at the woman expectantly, like they weren't quite sure what she would say after "196, 197, 198..." Who knows, maybe she'll start squaring each number then subtract the number of syllables found in the world's top-three most popular pastry dishes, drop the first digit, and multiply the whole thing by negative 87. Huh, she just said 199. The bitch really took me off guard.
After waiting in the DMV for three hours while nothing seemed to happen beside the occasional camera flash every ten minutes, I finally realized why no one ever seems to be happy with their driver's license photos. What the fuck do you have to smile about at the DMV?
Here's a philosophical question. How many times should you politely ask someone to stop tapping their foot on the back of your chair before smacking the shit out of them? I say one.
Do you know that you cannot legally possess an automobile in the United States without car insurance? I don't mean you can't drive the car, I mean you can't own it. The cops gave me a ticket for having an unregistered vehicle while my car was parked in my own space inside a private garage. I obviously didn't want another ticket, but I also don't need to drive my car for the next few months. Therefore, I asked at the DMV if I could register my car without having an insurance policy. They told me no, I could not.
Do you believe this? In order to keep an unmoving metal box on private property, I need to pay $1,000 for a contract that guarantees the payment of some poor schmuck's hospital bills should my car happen to run them over while I'm walking to the grocery store. Plus the $43.50 to renew my registration.
Maybe the government ought to require you to get fire insurance before you're allowed to buy a newspaper. You really shouldn't be possessing anything flammable if you can't afford to pay for the consequences of an accident. In fact, I think the government ought to provide universal fire insurance. I can't afford fire insurance. It's my right as a citizen to read the newspaper. You're not going to deprive me of that right just because I can't afford fire insurance, are you? I also have the tendency to suffer from depression and anxiety when I read the newspaper. There ought to be a designated section in every newspaper for mentally ill individuals who can't handle the regular news. Sort of like a handicapped parking space. A "no anxiety zone" for those of us who, through no fault of our own, are disturbed by news written for the non-handicapped. If some neurotic asshole gets a no-peanut section on an airplane, then I damn well want a no-stress section in my newspaper.
The main reason I came to the DMV was that I needed a photo ID. My old driver's license didn't have a photo, and the cruise ship I'm going on next week requires a photo ID in addition to a passport. I figure that the reason for this policy is to keep terrorists off the ship who are only capable of manufacturing counterfeit US passports, but have trouble handling the New Jersey state driver's license. I think you ought to take the time to counterfeit two forms of ID before you're allowed to blow up a cruise ship.
Before my photo was taken for my license, I had to present three forms of identification. My ATM card was acceptable, but not my current driver's license. Neither ID has a photo, but evidently the DMV trusts my bank more than they trust themselves. Actually, an ATM card seems a lot easier to counterfeit than a driver's license, even if the latter doesn't have a photo. There's a thousand different ATM cards, but only a small number of New Jersey driver's licenses. You'd think DMV employees, or should I say especially DMV employees, would have an easier time identifying a handful of designs that they've actually seen before. I also presented my passport and a cable TV bill that was recently mailed to me. The cable bill was for proof of residence. Evidently, proving that I'm a citizen of the United States isn't enough. I also need to prove that I have a door the Feds can break down if they decide I become a problem.
The woman in charge of validating my three forms of identification called me Joseph when she was done. I shit you not.
