|Todd Childs, BAMF|
Todd is an artist, writer, photo stylist, and gentleman (but don't cross him). Go here to bid on his work for a good cause.
After reading the following piece, Jacob said, "Todd's just so awesome. And his mustache is the greatest."
Vodka Cranberry Clooney is proud to present:
"Todd's Day(s) at the DMV"
by Todd Childs
Day 1 @ DMV: 20 minute wait. Seller signature on title didn't exactly match printed name. Buy a Correction Affadavit. Drive to Hoover. Meet with seller of my new car at bank to have CA notarized.
Day 2 @ DMV: 1 hour 20 minute wait. CA was rejected because it looked like the notary started to write a "1" but changed it to a "2". Buy another CA. Go back to Hoover. Get seller and do it again.
Day 3 @ DMV: Been here 25 minutes and I'm just now in sight of the door.
Folks, I am a broken man...and if I have to buy another damn correction form, I'll be a broke man. There's a special place in hell for these people...and there'll be a line to get in.
The scene: DMV, five hours into my third-day wait with my new group of best friends, five sassy black women. We were, literally, the next six people in line when another random woman shuffles up to the front of the line, wedges herself between Sassy #3 and myself and says to me, "Whooo. I made it back. Scoot down, baby." and plops down on the bench between us.
After a second of letting this register, I lean forward and look down at Sassy #3 just as she leans forward to look at me.
Sassy #3 asks, "Is that your friend?"
I reply, "I thought you were holding her place in line!"
Sassy is incredulous, "I don't know her!"
At this point, the camel's back snapped cleanly in two and I was on my feet (and I got a little 'ghetto'), "Oh, hell, no! We've been sitting in this line for 5 hours and you are not about to shuffle up here and get in front of me!"
The interloper is unfazed, "What are you talking about? I was here! I just went to the bathroom!"
I was insulted that she thought we were that stupid.
"We've been sitting here with each other for five damn hours! You think we're not going to realize some random-ass new person has shown up?!"
Several of the Sassys chime in, but are clearly letting me have the lead. Interloper rebuts, "I was here! This is the line for tags, ain't it?"
I am unmoved, "Damn straight, it is...and it still is the line for tags aaaaaaaaaaaalllll the way back there to the door where we started and where you need to go!"
A small crowd is gathering as people step out of line to get a better view of the proceedings. Several chime in, "Uh-uh! What are you doing? You're not getting in front of me!"
Interloper looks at me and snarls, "Well, I'll go back there, but it ain't 'cause you told me to!"
I lean in, emboldened by the backing of my equally-insulted companions, and say very calmly and deliberately, "I don't give a f*ck if you go back there because you thought you saw Santa Claus as long as you take your lazy ass BACK THERE!"
It was at this point that the hallway erupted into something akin to thunder, but I quickly realized was laughter. It was also at this point that a very large (6'4" minimum) and loud woman decided she needed in on the action. She stepped forward and spoke, "What's this triflin' bitch tryin' to do? Uh-uh. No, you ain't bouta get in front of me! Security! Security!"
A bedraggled guard who'd watched the whole thing from a nearby doorway, came forward and took the interloper by the arm and escorted her down the line past the DOZENS of people she tried to circumvent and out of sight as she continued to curse and protest.
The Sassys sounded like a group of stirred up chickens as they loudly marveled at the ballsiness of the interloper. The large woman stepped over and raised her hand. I high-fived her and she said, "You tell 'em, Baby."
This pretty much made the entire 3-day ordeal worth it. Sometimes you just need to get out a little piss-and-vinegar...and sometimes somebody comes around looking for some.
|Once a bad ass, always a bad ass.|