Today I decided to finally take the big step and officially become a Texan. I drove down to the Texas Department of Public Safety which was located in a strip mall and was the only establishment not owned and operated by the Asian community.
The place was packed with numerous folk trying to gain the privilege to drive on public roads. I go to the front desk clerk and she makes sure I have all the information necessary to qualify for this exclusive club. Washington State drivers license? Check. Texas vehicle registration? Check. Proof of insurance? Check. Social Security card? Check. Passport? Check.
Seriously they required all of that just to apply for a license. No matter though. The clerk let me know that all of my papers were in order and I was to stand in a long line of annoyed individuals who'd rather be pouring Amy Winehouse's urine directly into their eye. Still I stood like a gallant gentleman ready to kill time.
For whatever reason they wouldn't let me drink my coffee and made me throw it out. No food or drink was allowed in those hallowed halls. Sigh.
I overhear conversations the front desk clerk was having with other citizens of Texas. As I was making no headway in line it was hard to not listen to folks try to explain their drivers license dilemma. One lady really stood out.
She was a young latina who looked like the kind of person that had make up by Dutch Boy. She announced to the clerk and anyone within a five mile radius that her drivers license was stolen and she needed a replacement. The clerk explained to her the requirements for obtaining another one, including identification needed and to fill out some form. The girl was none too happy about this.
"You mean I have to wait in line," she cried to the clerk?
"Yes mam," the clerk said. "Then they'll help you get your license."
"I can't wait in line," the girl demanded. "I need help."
"Mam," said the clerk. "They can assist you. Just fill out the form and bring back the required ID and you'll get your license back."
"I can't wait that long," the girl went on. "You need to help me. I pay your salary. You need to help me."
The clerk and her went back and forth, but every time the sharpie obsessed latina was told to stand in line she would fire back with 'I pay your salary'. The clerk was very patient with the moron, but firm with her stance that the girl had no special privileges from the others standing in line that also happened to contribute to her wage.
The girl was unrelenting though. She told a sob story of how she was stopped at the airport for not having a drivers license and was treated 'like a criminal'. Her voice softened and she was acting like she had just been harassed by brown shirt thugs.
The clerk was unmoved and told her how to get assistance in obtaining a new drivers license for the 17th time. On cue the the girl went into another rant.
"I pay your salary," she said. "Next time you work for the government you remember that I pay your salary."
What...the...hell? That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Next time the clerk works for the government? Was she being promoted or transferred? Anyways I got real tired of it.
"Excuse me mam," I said loudly to the clerk before the loud bitch harassing her could interject. "Can you help me for I'm unclear as to who pays your salary?"
The clerk bit her lip hard and others in line laughed at the girl who was making the experience even more miserable. She bolted out of there in a huff.
I finally walked out of there a privileged citizen of the Republic of Texas....
...and I can vote!
"Calling a taxi in Texas is like calling a rabbi in Iraq." - Fran Lebowitz