Friday, September 12, 2008

A Day in the Life!

So today was a barrel of monkeys. First, I took my van in for service - an oil change, tire rotation, and replacement of my defective stereo system. The dealership is located on the infamous "highway 99" which, if you're not from around these parts, also doubles as the main drag for streetwalkers and drug dealers (not that I have personal experience!). So, there I was, faced with two hours of waiting time, when I decided to take a jaunt down to the nearest Starbucks (several blocks away) and bide my time. On the way, I decided to stop in at "Value Village". Again, for those of you non-natives, Value Village is basically a thrift store, set up like a department store. I perused the racks (and for some reason, it seemed really skeevy, not like my favorite rinky dink thrift shop up the street). Anyway, I bought a couple of things and continued my journey to Starbucks. As I clomped down highway 99, swinging my Value Village bag a guy in a sports car honked at me and gave me a big smile! Can you believe it? Solicitious jerk. Oh well, I made it to Starbucks unperturbed and bided my time.

After, I had just enough time to get to the high school and pick up Hayley. We were off on an adventure! It was "Get your driver's permit day". Oh joy. The DMV is dismal on ANY day, and apparently Friday afternoon is the most popular and busy day, as we pulled our number (496) and they were serving somewhere in the 420's. So, we waited. And waited. Thank God we brought books. Our literary reverie was broken by a sudden, vivacious rendition of "The Mexican Hat Dance". It was a cell phone. Belonging to Juan. Or Pedro. Or Enrique. Minutes later, another cell phone rang (this time to a lively country tune) and was answered by a woman (older than me, remember that because it's important later) who had a very loud and personal conversation. "Did you know I was pregnant? Oh, yeah, but I miscarried it, and it freaked me out a little bit, even though I didn't need it. Oh, and then? They removed this cantaloupe sized tumor in my ovary! Yeah, my ovary. They're gone now. They took out my ovaries." And so on. Soon after, the very large gentleman next to me started to make small talk. Apparently he had been waiting since noon to have a driver's test (this was 2 p.m.) and was "bored". He said the seats were killing him and turned and twisted until he adjusted himself comfortably. Unfortunatley, his comfort was my undoing! As I turned toward him to answer his question, I shuddered to find that I could see his........ahem........MANHOOD hanging out of his shorts. Oh yes, the family jewels. The nads. The boys. In all their glory (and let me tell you, it was NOT glorious!). What I would not have given to have a (large) pair of Fruit of the Looms in which to house this guy's junk. But how do you, politely, tell a very large man that his stuff is better off contained in whitey tighties? Ick. Thankfully, he soon ambled off and was out the door. Poor Hayley. I'm pretty sure she didn't glimpse the indiscretion (although I whispered the infraction loudly to her as it happened). But on the way home she speculated what would have happened if his guys had gotten stuck to the plastic seat in the heat of the day (haha - kudos to her for having a sick sense of humor!). Hard to beat (pardon the pun) the flasher, but then a lady appeared. I'll call her Dottie. She sported a bright red dress with white polka dots, a matching polka dot belt, a black and white polka dot purse, and matching polka dot earrings. She was spot on (hahaha!)!

Soon enough Hayley was up for her photo. Minutes later she was presented with her learner's permit, which she inspected and promptly said "eww, that is a disgusting picture!" I reminded her that having a horrendous photo was a requirement of the DMV and we exited that stale, horrid environment, FINALLY. Whew. Now, we have to do it all again in a year when she gets her "real" license. As we got in the car, she asked "can I drive home?" to which I gave her a resounding NO! She has not even been behind the wheel of a car. She has no idea how to drive. And I just got her legal permission to do it! What was I thinking?

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