DMV Hell

I don't mind changing my name. It's a bit of a pain and causes more than a few identity issues, but I'm fine with it.

I'm not fine with the Texas Department of Motor Vehicles. Yesterday, I went to get a new license with my new name. The minute I walked through the door, I thought of turning around. The room was filled with a mass of people. The temperature was about 90 degrees (inside) and it smelled of sweat. Isn't there a form I can fill out? No, the rude lady said at the desk. Then she handed me a number.

Every chair in the room was filled. All the walls had people leaning against them. I stood. For two hours. Finally, I was able to grab a chair. It was great...but I couldn't get up or someone else would grab it. I watched as kids - who got there after me - got called to take their driving tests. I watched as older people went up to take vision tests. All the while, I also watched the numbers appear on the TV screen as they were called. There was no order to the numbers so you had no idea when you'd be called.

Three hours after arriving, I got to talk to someone. Three minutes of conversation later, I walked out of there with my new name. Then I got into a 150-degree car. Oy.

I was so exhausted. When Mr. Higgins texted (two hours into it all) to ask if I was alright, I replied, "I'm in hell." The DMV is hell. Just so you know.