FML DMV

I should know by now that I exist on a sine curve of karmic reactions. For every positive event, there is a corresponding low of equal magnitude. I moved to Texas with minimal hitches!! I landed a job!! Mad Men season 5 is on Netflix two weeks before the new season starts!!!! So many consequence-free happy goings-on….I have been feeling indestructible of late and for this, today, I have suffered. Foolhardy mortal am I to think that I could visit the DMV unscathed, unraped in my more tender orifices.

Behold this map showing the location of the nearest driver’s license office:

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Thanks, DMV.org, for shrouding your lies in a veil of gov’t legitimacy

If you’re thinking that looks suspiciously like a neighborhood, you’re correct. It is a neighborhood, and a cul-de-sac is no fit place for a government office. I was acting as navigator, Megan driving, and this fact dawned on us slowly. With each turn the houses became more hopeless, lawns strewn with more broken toys until at last the grass became so untended that we couldn’t even see front doors.”Peach Grove Road”, indeed. We pulled up to the address we’d been told by the internet was the correct and real location of a correct and real State of Texas DMV. Here’s what we saw:

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So about American infrastructure…

So. The unpleasantness had begun. A second consultation of the internet revealed that there was another DMV of a less dubious nature not too far away. Off we sped, still unaware that we had only just begun the downward trajectory of our karmic journey. We wove out of the depressing neighborhood into a depressing business district, barely escaping death from multiple blind people driving in whatever fucking lane they so chose and at whatever speed would result in the most fatalities. Apparently knowing HOW to drive is not a requirement in Texas. so I supposed we wouldn’t have to take any tests when we arrived at the DMV. Silver lining.

At last we spotted our destination strip mall. Could it be? Could the parking lot really be so empty at 1 pm on a Friday? At last, a turn of luck! The lines were going to be short, we’d be back to our lives in less than an hour! Megan and I trotted to the front door, laughing breathlessly about how silly the adventure had been so far. My hand was on the door when-

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Good Friday: a state holiday in 12 of the 50 states, who knew?

So this afternoon, while we’re all off work not getting our driver’s licenses renewed, let us observe not only Jesus Christ’s death and crucifixion, but also the Passion of Erin, who’s physical, mental and spiritual anguish this day hit an abysmal low.

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