Where the crazies gather

So, ya'll are killing me with all the comments about November.  Is it just indifference or fear of standing up in public

Anyway, in honor of Crystal's Walmart experience I remembered that not all the crazies gather at the Walmart.  No, there is at least one other place where everyone goes, regardless of sanity, goofiness or any other general absurdity.  That place would be the MVA or the Motor Vehicle Administration.  Because just as everyone loves to shop cheap, most of those folks like to drive to get there.

I had the unfortunate experience of the MVA last Friday due to the little incident with the car and the robbery.  At that point, my purse had not yet been found, so it was fairly important to me that I get a replacement license in the event of being pulled over for any reason.  So, while my window was being repaired, the Brit drove me out to the MVA, though he was not foolish enough to actually enter the building with me.  Smart guy.

The place was the busiest I had ever seen it, though I try not to make a habit of going.  It may have been because school was out on Friday, so it was time to take all the teens out to try for their driver's licenses, but the joint was packed.  I explained my situation and got the dreaded number that I had to wait to appear on the little screen that shows what numbers are being serviced (Yes, I'd like a back massage and a facial please) and then took a seat to people watch. 

Not too much was going on until this little old, white haired lady got out of line with her number and started wandering around.  She had a little grin on her face, so she didn't look distressed or anything and she was obviously alone.  My amusement was already unfolding.  She approached this handsome, young man and was apparently asking him what she needed to do.  Though I did not hear the question, I did hear him explain to her three times that she would need to watch the board for her number to come up and then he directed her to a seat and escaped as quickly as possible.

Grandma puttered over to a bench and sat down quickly but with the longest, most vocal groan I had ever heard.  Despite the business of the place, there was no missing that sound.  The lady sitting across from me and her two teenagers, joined me in silent giggles until we were on the verge of tears.  It was about that time that grandma decided she was tired of watching the little screen, so she started talking to it too.

"Come eeehn" ("Come on" but it sounded way more like eeehn)

Another round of giggles from the two women and two teens who are all apparently really five years old.

"Come EEEEHN!"

By this time more people are looking and giggling until finally grandma's number pops up.  She jumps up from her seat, (no groan in the reverse) and putters up to the counter where she is getting a handicapped tag for her car.  That seems to go without incident.  Once she is finished, she turns and putters through the room, towards the door and is stopped by an elderly man in a handicapped cart, maybe trying to hit on her.  I have no idea what he said to her, but her response was a very loud,

"I'm goin' to HELL!"

Either that or she was headed to the Walmart.