Thursday, March 16, 2006

Decay, Mortis-Rigor, Vexation

My Family Crest After relating my Emissions Inspection anecdote, I thought I might share with you, the sequel... Renewing my license to operate the motor vehicle that I had inspected for criminal emanations.

Mooser and I arrived, and I tied him off outside. Things started off fine as the line number dispenser was in easy view and no one was attending it. My suspicions began to form though as I realized the line numbers themselves were in hieroglyphics.

What are you looking at?

As I entered the building I was stunned with the churning, human mass that stood before me. The line that had formed was almost an organism in and of itself due to the fact that several complex systems such as a digestive tract and nervous system had spontaneously coalesced. As there was nowhere else to go, I took my place at the business end of the line.

After the 45th consecutive hour of waiting in queue, a team of forensic anthropologists and paleontologists entered the building to examine the remains of the Bird-th guy in line. They brought all manner of archeological toolitry, so it was quite educational. Around this time, they called his ... number... glyph... picture... whatever, and since he was in no state to renew anything, I relieved him of his place in line. I gave him my line number, though, just in case he ever came around.

After some sparkling banter with the DMV attendant, I was able to finalize my transactions and take my place in line for my new license photo. Fortunately, this process was computerized, so I spent a paltry 33.3 seconds in line. My attendance prize was yet another wonderful if not miniature portraiture of myself to carry around in convenient wallet-sized proportions.

I blinked
I had a question, but the computer ignored me before taking the shot.

As I exited the bureau I was able to discern what Mooser had been occupying his time with during my wait at the DMV. They have begun designing the new DMV parking lot.
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