I have never talked to a living soul that has said "I love going to the DMV!" In fact, I don't think even the people who work there like the DMV. If anything, they probably hate it the most. The DMV sucks beyond belief. It's like the entrance to hell on Earth.
First off, as soon as you walk in the door you get a whiff of ass, sweat, feet, dirt and other various body odors. You feel like you're getting sticky and gross from just standing there. Then after that, the very first thing you have to do is wait in a line. The line moves half a centimeter every thirty minutes, and for some reason, there's always an annoying little kid who got dragged there with their parents. They run between you and the parent, flailing around like maniacs trying to entertain themselves. And guess who has to put up with it?
After you get past the line, the desk person (who is usually a moron and will most likely screw something up for you, but we'll get to that later) hands you the dreaded number. It'll say something like A080 on a little slip of paper. So you wander over to a seat to wait. Since it's always crowded in there, you'll end up getting awkwardly squished between two people. One smells like BO and the other has some kind of plague. Then you wait...and wait...and wait. You're still holding that stupid slip of paper with the number on it, which is never getting called. And you have to listen to the dumb ass automated voice which over-pronounces every damn syllable: "B one thir-teen at win-dow number...5!"
Not only that, but the voice falls behind the little screen with all the letters on it. The numbers will change crazy fast and the voice is like ten numbers behind! Then there's idiots who aren't paying attention. Their number will get called three times before they even realize it's them, and then they'll waste even more time. The worst is when your number finally gets called and it's for something extremely little, like getting your picture taken. After you get called, you have to go sit back down and wait again, assuming your original seat's still there in the first place.
Now here's where the moron from the front desk comes in. Say after about ten billion numbers, you finally get called to do what you have to do. The front desk person screwed up for you, and the person at the window is trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Turns out, you're at the wrong window with the wrong number. And guess what? They hand you a new number and you have to wait again!
A shorter rant, but that's all there to be said about the DMV.
YOU ARE READING
Yes...Another Rant Book (OLD discontinued)
Random*This rant book is old and many of the chapters hold opinions that don't necessarily stand for me today. Read at your own risk and feel free to ask me about anything questionable! So yeah, the title says it all. This is yet another rant book to add...
