the dmv.

I knew this day was bound to happen, but didn't really expect it to be a reality for at least another 2 to 17 years. I'm not going to complain that it has come sooner than later, but I'm still trying to wrap my head and my emotions around it. What I'm referring to is missing living in a small town. There, I said it. I miss smaller towns. Ugh, who am I? Let me explain before I talk myself out of my love for this city.

Today I drove my little red star--Jennifer--to the DMV to get my registration, taxes (woof) and title taken care of. <--Nothing about getting that done made me very happy except that I don't have to worry about it anymore. So I stood in line for about 40 minutes before almost getting sent away for not having my VIN verified. Come on people, no one tells me these things and it's getting a little old. I've been missing memos since I was four. Anyway, my choice of locations was between Ghetto Spot #1 or Ghetto Spot #2. I tried #1 last week and left immediately after seeing a curly skullet, so I tried my luck with #2 this week. And let me tell you, there's some quality people watching at these places. I finally got my stuff taken care of, dropped the gov some more Gs, then headed outside with the security guard to get my VIN checked and plates put on. Mind you, the security guard (I'll refer to him as Security Steve) was standing around complaining about just having thrown out his back so if someone decided to mess with us, it was up to me to defend the two of us. I felt nice and safe.

Not a second later I heard someone screaming and looked up to see a woman dinosaur running down the sidewalk flailing her arms all over the place and spouting out unintelligible phrases. "Don't look directly at her," Security Steve says to me. "It will just make things worse if she catches you looking." HOLY SHEET. I wanted to look up so bad. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her jumping around hitting street signs acting-a-fool. Clearly she was on something and clearly if I could have kicked her in the schnoz so she'd shut the eff up, I would have. But since I was wearing a skirt and Security Steve said NO, I opted to stay on my safer side of the street. Next she jumped into her little blue Chevy and after a little more yelling at this poor old man who was unfortunate enough to be in the passenger's seat, she sped off. I prayed she wouldn't come barreling around the corner and smash into me because I'd looked at her.

After that, I returned to some idle surfacey chitchat with Security Steve and somehow blurted out that I had a degree in psych (why the eff do I do this?) soooooooo naturally he spilled his guts. "OK, here's a scenario. Give me your psychological opinion," he says to me as if I'm a freaking professional. "Why would a woman leave her husband and three kids?" he asks me--and instantly I know I'm not even close being to the first person who's gotten asked this question. So I pulled out my corncob pipe and Mister Rogers sweater and answered, "Sounds like she's selfish and has some internal issues she needs to deal with." And of course it was his wife. And of course she left him for his neighbor. And of course his kid got hit by a car a couple months after that. And of course his six year old is dealing with suicidal tendencies. Ummm WHAT? All I needed was to register Jennifer, but instead I was handed a steaming plate of drama. Thanks, Security Steve.

Something tells me that the simplicity of small town life would help to avoid these types of situations, but then again small towns have their own form of drama. I don't know what's worse: the disaster that was me trying to get my car registered today or having your high school teacher come up to you and ask if the rumors are true, that your parents are buying the plot of land next to your house to build a Walmart... For now I think I'll enjoy the perks of being a cosmogirl. All this culture biz has got to pay off at some point.