The same day Birdie signed up for Medicare, in person–on line did not prove as easy and foolproof as Patty Duke promised– she decided she would stop by the DMV to renew her driver’s license as well. She had tried to do this on line also, but she had discovered that she was officially too old to be allowed to renew her license that way. She had to show up in person. So “in person” she was.
Birdie is never at her best when carrying out “official” chores. However, she had answered all the questions asked. It wasn’t really a quiz–just things like weight, height, color of hair and eyes. And she had told the truth. It made her wince to say her weight out loud. Birdie believes that if she never vocalizes the number associated with her weight, no one will ever realize she is overweight. She also thinks that if no one ever sees a photograph of her, no one will ever realize how “not good” she really looks. As if they can’t judge that by seeing her in person. Ridiculous, but body issues usually are.
Birdie passed the eye test. She was even congratulating herself for having the second proof of physical address with her when she hadn’t even known it was a necessary item to have. She’d witnessed two other people–geezers like herself– who had shown up without it. Things were going well. Too well.
The official who takes the photographs and fingerprints called Birdie up and asked for her full name and address. Birdie recited it. But she left out her middle name. An oversight. So DMV Official asked for her middle name and Birdie replied, “Jane, er, Jean.”
Birdie had gotten her middle name wrong! At the DMV of all places. She laughed and made a joke about not studying hard enough for the test. How stupid was that? DMV Official was very nice and laughed, too. He even offered the premise that everyone is entitled to at least 15 minutes of insanity every day. Birdie thought the DMV was an excellent incubator for insanity, but she was hoping not everyone present would exercise their 15 minutes. At least not all at the same time and not 15 consecutive minutes each. Not until she left, anyway. Let DMV Official handle it by himself. It was his theory, after all.
Birdie had been sitting next to a man who looked like he was about to cash in his quota of daily insanity. He was dressed in leathers, boots and chains. His arms and neck were emblazoned with tattoos of snakes, dragons, and skulls. His old lady, uh, moll, uh, significant other was seated beside him, in black lace tights, short skirt, long red nails, and big hair. Dragon man would lean over to Big Hair and say something each time DMV Official would call someone else’s name. The Dragon Man’s theme was that he had been here before the others and was being passed over. Steam was beginning to build, and Birdie was mentally formulating her plan to run for the exit if he blew. She mainly hoped DMV Official wouldn’t put her ahead of Dragon Man. It could turn into a hostage situation. And what if Dragon Man didn’t know his insanity was only supposed to last for 15 minutes?