I have found the eighth circle of hell... aka the DMV

Ok, I was somewhat excited to go fetch a learner's permit today. That meant I'd finally get to learn driving. So I go down the the DMV nice and early. The skies are grey, and it's snowing. I figure although that can't possibly be a good omen of thiings to come, I decided not to be a superstitious idiot.

So I get there, the line has stretched outside. Incidenly it's snowing, and it's windy. Perfect way to start my day, wait in line while it's snowing. So finally after a bit of waiting I get inside. Once inside the demon known as a bueracrat asked why I was there, and gave me a number. Incidenly it served no purpose as to ask me why I was there as they had to ask again once I got to the desk.

I went to take a seat with my grandfather who took me to the DMV, it was there that I found the most lively e mployee of the entire DMV; to plastic plant. I noticed that for a bunch of paper loosing demons who emphasize effeceny, they failed to realize the underlying flaw in the waiting area. Nobody wants to sit next to eachother. Thus there would be a seat between every two groups of people, or a seat on either side of each person in some cases. There I waited for probably half an hour at least, watching as a variety of people came into the DMV. Oddly enough I can't seem to remember a single person actually leaving the DMV.

Finally my number was called. I proceeded to the desk were I was interogated by another demon who just so happened to get a job with the state goverment. It makes me wonder why we're sending terrorists to Gitmo when the local DMV gets the same job done.

So anyhow I get all my stuff out of an envelope. For some odd reason they want a birth certificate, social security card, mail with my address on it, and the application form. That sort of implies that they think there's somebody dumb enough to want to impersonate me. I find that's an insult to the school system. Then again I insult the school system all the time, so no harm done.

But these bueracrats are mysterious creatures. They insist that everything be done in pen. Which meant I had to redo everything in pen that had been done in pencil. Honestly, what're the chances that Jesse White (the secratary of state for the state of Illinois) is going to come in and want to erase my information? While I was doing this the bueracrat who was supposed to be torturing my soul left to torture someone else.

So after a few minutes of waiting, some powerful diety (God, Satan, Allah, Zeus, Spongebob, one of them) apparently felt it was time for me to suffer from bueracracy again. So the demon came back, apparently thirsty for my blood. After asking a few questions finally came the vision test.

After about a week of studying signs and such for my writing test, I was hit by the brute force of irony. I never made it to the written test, instead I failed the vision test. Which means that they won't even give me the actual written test until I get glasses.

Thus the reason I shall forever refer to the eighth circle of hell as the DMV.

Thanks for the laugh at your expense. I love the part about the terrorists seemingly working there...it does seem that way, doesn't it?

Some of the most backwards work the state can ever provide gets done there.

Plastic plant as lively...awesome!

I love how the DMV here in town accully makes fun of its self. They have funny paper cut outs of DMV stuffs, ...yea thats all i had to say.