We are sounding a little desperate. Although I thought my Babes Who Have a Lot to Offer calendar post might stimulate some juices--"Calendars I Have Hung"-- or maybe we'd get some additions to Janet's "Deep Calendar Words to Live By".
Let's see. I had one of those Twilight Zone episodes yesterday that seem to happen to me with such frequency.
Teenagers have to renew their licenses every year on their birthday. So CW and I drove the half hour to the DMV last week and discovered that there's a three hour wait. We decided to return on another day--so yesterday we make the drive again and get in the line to get a number to get in line. There is an attractive young couple in back of us--she has on white make-up and black lipstick and he has a shaved head with a ponytail. Once you get your number you can sit in the chairs and watch a movie. Last year, we sat through two showings of Sandlot, which luckily is one of my favorite movies, especially the scene where they chew tobacco and throw up riding the Octopus. Anyway, this boy says, "Hey you wanna sit down?"
The girl, who really is cute in a Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice kind of way, looks and says, "Naw, I don't think we're supposed to. They're watching a training film."
I look at the TV. THe Batmobile is crashing into a building--huge explosions, bodies flying.
"Wow, they're really trying to scare people." she says. I look at her. She's serious.
I look back at the TV. Batman is embracing Kim Bassinger; the Batmobile is in flames behind them. We seem to be watching Batman I.
"I bet these people don't speed going home," she says. "THat's pretty violent stuff to show in a training film."
"Yes, it is, " I agree. CW is poking me.
"Do you have my Social Security number?" he says anxiously.
"You don't need it," I say, and point to a sign that says, Proof of Social Security Number required unless you're already in the system. Now--he got his license last year at this time. Don't you think he's in the system? Of course he is.
"He's not in the system." the bored girl, who looks a little like Rosie O'Donnell, says.
"Well, where is he?" I ask, perturbed. "You gave him a license last Jan. He's got to be in the system. Where did you put him?"
"Ah-she says, "We just started putting people in the system last Feb. So he has to prove who he is again."
But this is the good part. "Do you have your SS card?" I ask CW.
"Oh, that's no good," she interrupts, as if I should know this. "We don't accept those as proof. You can get fake ones at flea markets. We need more verification than that."
"This is outrageous. I'm his mother. Surely I would know who he is." I say, indignantly. She gazes at me with no expression. "What an incredibly inefficient way to run a business. What verification is valid? His Driver's License??" (Ah-such razor sharp sarcasm!)
She looks at me as if I should have been sterilized before being allowed to give birth. CW is poking me, embarrassed. "Noooo-" she says, equally sarcastic."That's no good. It's expired."
I take a deep breath; CW is dragging me away.
Winona-Elvira is nodding approvingly, "Cool," she says.
We have to go back. I have his passport this time, his scuba card, his student ID and his PSAT scores.
Do you suppose they'll accuse us of buying his passport in some back alley? |
