The Day I Chased A Mail Carrier
By the time it was noon I had already had a full day today and was really ready to kick back, relax, maybe go to the beach. Unfortunately, part of the reason it was a full day by then was because I had to get to work by one.
This morning I woke up at 7:00 thinking I would be needing to get to the post office by 8:00 then to the DMV by 9:00 at the latest. Why the post office you ask? Well, dear friend, because my birth certificate was waiting there having been lovingly mailed by my dad two days prior. I hadn’t been home to sign for it the day before so..you get the point.
Arriving at the post office at 9:00 (realizing it wasn’t open at 8:00 I cleaned the kitchen instead. Look at me being all grown up and not going back to bed) I waited in line then finally made it to the counter only to be regretfully told my package was already in a mail truck scooting down San Fernando. They told me his approximate location and said just find the truck ask if his name’s Tony and get my package.
So I went on my way exasperated, driving like a bat out of Hell, probably looking like some sort of meth head, when I spotted it…He had his turn signal on..he was about to pull into traffic and I was afraid I’d lose him for forever (not of course thinking of how fast mail trucks usually travel). I zoomed up next to him blocking him in, honking my horn and looking at him crazy eyed mouthing “Are you Tony?”
He was. I apologized for acting the way I did explaining I couldn’t handle three trips to the DMV in a week and a half ( I had already been the week before, but after being told I owed them $600 I left to cry…and, well cry) and that I had to have it to get my license.
9:30-I speed my way to the DMV with my Indiana license plate rattling away in my back window as I had removed it before leaving the house (they make you give it back which makes me kind of sad) Finally there I wait in line again. It was a hot day today and the waiting room was ripe. I myself was probably adding to the oder as my Ziggy Stardust t-shirt now has prevalent pit stains, but that’s neither here nor there. Finally they tell me (B080) to go to desk twenty where I promptly paid the a total of $610 for my plates and license that I had yet to attain.
10:00- “Go to desk 8 to get your picture taken then proceed to the testing area”
10:05- ” Take off your glasses. Do you want to maybe brush your hair over? No the other side. Okay put your bag down. Stand up straight. Smile! Go to the testing area.”
10:30- Finished the test. Stood at the desk staring at the people ignoring me until they took it back.
10:40- “Lindsay Hobeart! Lindsay Hobeart! Do you have an out of state license?”
Nod, hand it to her. She promptly punches a hole in it and hands it back to me.
“You passed. Go to desk 6.” (which was surprisingly hard to find). When I found it I was told to go to the end off the line. This line even riper than the last. I wait.
11:00- Desk 6. She looks confused. Uh Oh. ” They didn’t give you a license?”
Shake my head.
More confused looks.
11:30- She prints out a piece of paper. “Here. You have temporary license until Sacramento mail you one.”
“You’re positive it will get mailed?” She didn’t seem so confident.
“Yes. You just keep that til it do.”
“Okay.”
Noon. 3 lines, 4 desks, $620 and 3 hours later I walk from the Glendale DMV completely defeated, broke and smelling like the really cheap gym I joined when I was living in Broad Ripple all for a paper license and a California license plate.
I kinda miss my Indiana one.
1:00- Time for work.
