I took advantage of a day off today to run some errands. My first stop was the DMV. I had already tried twice without success to take care of this paperwork snafu, first online and then in person on Saturday.
When I had arrived at the Department of Motor Vehicles on Saturday, a line stretched out the door, down the sidewalk, and around the building. I had a hard time believing that this was my line, but after a little scouting and a few questions, I found that indeed it was. The service center was due to close in 45 minutes, but I was willing to wait in the weak sunshine. I felt it was my penance for misplacing the title to my car. I pulled my fleece jacket closer to guard against the chill air and stood silently listening to the gripes of my fellow linees, the very model of patience.
At 11:57, three minutes before closing, a uniformed guard came out to distribute directions to other offices that were open past noon. "No thank you," I told him when he held one out to me. He frowned at me then, but I swear I was not making any undue assumptions, I just knew how to get to the other DMVs. Two minutes later, he gleefully locked the door in my face after allowing everyone in front of me in. They had all accepted the flyers.
Stunned to be excluded from the chosen few who would get to complete their errands that blustery day, I walked slowly back to my car, the shouldas circling my head like birds and stars: should have never lost the title, should have gotten there earlier, should have taken what the guard was offering... oy what a mess I was, until I remembered that I was off today. And you know what? There was no line at all this morning. I should have known.