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Wednesday, August 25th, 1999 - "I've been to hell. I spell it DMV. Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean..

	...Stood there and I've watied, and choked back the urge to scream. And if I had my druthers, I'd screw a chimpanzee --call it pointless." - Primus (from "DMV" on Pork Soda) Guess what today's entry is about? Actually, I was calm at first. I stood in the line for people with appointments, watching the smaller, no appointment line zip past to my left. This appointment thing must have caught on; there's a sign asking us to consider, for next time, adding to our conveinence by scheduling an appoinment. It's at the head of our line, and I try not to read it over and over and seethe. There was an elderly Asian man in front of me who was beside himself: Asian Man: What is going on here? I have an appoinment at 9:10! It's 10 o'clock! What about my appoinment? Heather: I know, my appoinment was at 9:10 too, but this is just the DMV. It will happen everytime. You've just got to roll with it. Asian Man: But this is ridiculous! Why did I make an appoinment only to stand in line? This has taken an hour and I'm still waiting! What's going on? Heather: Yeah, I know, the idea is that we get faster service, but that seems not to be the case....look, you've got to calm down and just let it wash over you. Be a good sheep. They WANT you to get all upset and beaten down, but you've got to let this line, this whole institution be a funny little hoop you humor them by jumping through. It doesn't really affect you, you know? Asian Man: But my appointment is at 9:10! Turns out his appointment was the next day anyway, not that he'd have gotten any faster service. The DMV finally got to me, too, as I had to run outside to get my car inspected, back in for paperwork, back out with a screwdriver to undo my Indiana plates, back inside to trade them in, and back outside - sans screwdriver - to try to hand-screw my new plate to the back. I had to stop on my way home at the hardware store to buy more bolts. I've now learned that a woman should not wear low-cut blouses to Home Depot. It didn't make any of the men appear around me when I needed help, and, when I finally *did* find a employee (male) to help me, he spent more time sneaking looks down my blouse than he did helping me. I would ask a question and he'd just ramble on and on about which screws I might use...kept trying to give me the wrong size, just so he could go on about the virtues of sheet metal screws over wood screws all the while gazing at the tops of my boobs. Rrg. He didn't even bother to flirt with me, which might have been a little fun at least. Nope, he just spoke about boring screws in a monotone and kept looking. I finally had to make my own decision (I really only wanted to know where they *were* - once I was in the right section of wall where the screws were I could figure it out on my own, thank you). I'm deep in Burning Man preparation frenzy. I bought myself all sorts of goodies yesterday, which I may list here later. Work is frantic too, as our big tradeshow is next week (I'll be gone at Burning Man), so Christa and I are putting together press kits and name badges and literature...what a mess. I'm afraid there's no pithy ending to this entry. Have a good one, y'all!
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