What does SOS really stand for?

It could mean Help or it could mean Secretary of State.     In this case, it means both.

     My birthday is in a few days and being the detail oriented person that I am, I JUST noticed (on the paperwork that the Secretary of State sends six weeks in advance of the birth date) that I have to renew my license in person!  Oops. 

So I went down there yesterday.  And the SOS did not disappoint!  They were as rude and bored as I expected them to be.   First of all, the first lady I talked to, who gave me my number, talked super fast.  It was like three beats between what she said and my actually processing it.  I understand they say the same things every single day, but I don’t hear those things every single day.    

 Oh, and the number she gave me?   Zero-Zero.  I think karma is trying to tell  me something .  Twice.

     After about 15 minutes, the counter-help lady called my number.  But to me, it sounded like someone just said “Hey” really loud so I dismissed it.   She called it again, this time I actually heard “zero.”  I grabbed my absolutely adorable purse from 31, stood up and before I could take two steps, she called One.  I trotted up and said, “hold it, I'm zero.”  She said, "Are you zero or one?" (didn’t we just go through this??)  I said, "I'm zero."  She said, "Well I called it twice."  I felt like saying , "and your point would be...?"  

     I will admit that the rest of the transaction went smoothly, aside from the fact that her words were really flat, “sign this”, “pay this”, etc.   What cracked me up was when she took my picture for my license.  She told me to smile.  I thought, take your own advice lady.  

      Wow, can I have the part of my tax dollars back that went to pay her salary?   

     And while I was getting said photo taken, there was a very short and very thin Hispanic man at the counter next to me, literally with hat in hand.   His counter-lady was a very large black woman who looked like she just found out she was getting audited by the IRS.  The contrast between the two was like the gigantic power chair behind a large desk and the kiddie chair on the other side to make the  visitor feel small and weak.  

"Come in lad! Don't let my enormous

chair intimidate you!"

     Anyway, I heard her say to him, “Is it an 0-2 Honda?  Which is it?  (dramatic sigh) Gimmie your license, I’m gonna have to look ALL this up.  (another dramatic sigh)  if I can even find any of it.”    I thought to myself, “Wow, you mean you are going to have do your job?  You are going to have to perform the tasks that the state pays you to perform?  On a job, which you have, unlike a hefty bunch of people in our state?  (who you can find over at another government office, the Unemployment Office.  They actually smile over there.)  Were we supposed to feel sorry for this woman?  Whatever.

 

Oh, and I am proud to announce that my new drivers license photo looks like a "before" picture.  (Before rehab, before Weight Watchers, before hair coloring was invented, before Prozac was covered by insurance, etc.  Pick one, any of them will do).