Wednesday, June 01, 2005
DMV...
So I called to make an appointment to get an address change on my license and the guy's like, "What time do you want to come in?"
And I'm like, "Ummmmm 12:00?"
And he's like, "No the times are blah blah blah."
I'm thinking, Okay buddy if there are set times why not help a brother out and tell me that up front.
Days when I don't like my job (few and far between these days) I think about what a real Hell job must be: cleaning out gook from oil tankers, telemarketer for Bob's House o' Liver, Paris Hilton's husband. Then I remember the DMV; the uniforms, the offices they work in, the bureaucracy, and I thank my lucky stars. ¶
9:05 AM
So I called to make an appointment to get an address change on my license and the guy's like, "What time do you want to come in?"
And I'm like, "Ummmmm 12:00?"
And he's like, "No the times are blah blah blah."
I'm thinking, Okay buddy if there are set times why not help a brother out and tell me that up front.
Days when I don't like my job (few and far between these days) I think about what a real Hell job must be: cleaning out gook from oil tankers, telemarketer for Bob's House o' Liver, Paris Hilton's husband. Then I remember the DMV; the uniforms, the offices they work in, the bureaucracy, and I thank my lucky stars. ¶
9:05 AM
