I knew it was coming. I had about a few weeks left. As much as I hated to do it, I needed to. Sooner than later, I needed to venture to one of the most hated places on the planet.
Here in Texas, it's called the Dept. of Public Safety- DPS. In California, it's called the DMV. You might as well call it purgatory. I had to get my state ID.
I got there at about 11:30 or so; Mom came with me. I came prepared- with the paperwork, as well as the books "Water for Elephants," and "Breaking Dawn." (The latter was for Mom. Alas, the book made her sleepy.) There seemed to be two groups-- one to get the number to be waited on, and another (larger) group where you actually got waited on.
The security guard really did his job. He routinely asked people questions, making sure they had all the documents to get that "Golden Ticket." I was number 448. The numbers were called by groups, rather than in order.
Then, once you get your number, you go to the much larger group to find a seat. Or not. And yes, we were by no means not the only ones there. Mom got a chair, and I either stood, or sat on the floor until there was a seat available. Around 2 1/2 hours in, I got a seat. We watch the screen for our number to be called like brokers watch the stock market. There are occasional cheers from various corners of the room when some numbers are called. After a little while, people emerge from the counters with grins on their faces, like they had won the lottery.
All in all, we were there about three and a-half hours.
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