The D.M.V. Witness

By Danny Maybin

Of all the places I have to go, I think the D.M.V is my least favorite. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who has ever gotten up in the morning, excited that they are going there.

If you think about it, the teens are scared to death of the driving test, those who work are irritated that they have to be there and the elderly are worried they won’t pass the eye test. It’s the only place I know of that you wait in alphabetical order just to get in line to take a number and wait!

On one of my visits; I had already gotten to the number stage and like most of the rest, was trying to carry on polite conversation with my fellow sufferers. Somehow we tend to think this will make the ordeal more tolerable but I find awkward conversation only tends to heighten my stress level but I seem to always do it anyway, which drives me crazy as well.

On this visit, I was actually sitting outside the waiting room, in the hallway, where you can watch the teenagers walk out to the car with the examiner and come back in looking like they had just seen a horrible accident. It can be quite entertaining.

The hallway was also the access for the highway patrolmen’s offices and various other related offices. We were all sitting there in those government issue, plastic seated chairs, alternately talking and watching for the next terrified kid, when a man, obviously upset came walking in.

He made eye contact with no one and marched straight to the Lieutenant’s office door. Taking the doorknob, he realized that the door was locked and he would have to talk to the receptionist via the intercom beside the door. This apparently irritated the man to no end, as he stamped his foot and said something that shouldn’t be said, even in the D.M.V.!

We were all now listening very carefully as this was the most excitement we had had this morning. Finally, he pressed the intercom button and demanded to speak to the Lieutenant.

A calm, southern, female voice came back saying, “I’m sorry but the Lieutenant isn’t in today”. He then demanded to know who was over the Lieutenant. Softly the voice came back again saying, “That would be the Captain over in Asheville”. Now, in an even louder voice, he requested who was over him. Again, in that sweet voice she said, “That would be the Colonel down in Raleigh”.

By this time, all of us, including a couple of very interested state troopers, were all watching and listening to see what would happen next. I couldn’t believe my ears. He asked once again almost yelling, “And who is over him?”

There was a long, painful silence in which you could have heard a bug run across the floor. Finally, the intercom crackled and that still, sweet, southern ladies voice came back saying, “Bless your heart, that would be Jeeesus” and she continued with “Now, I don’t have a number to give you, but I’d be glad to introduce you to Him ‘cause it sure sounds like you need to meet Him”.

The two patrolmen quickly retreated back to their office but you could still hear the laughter through the big oak door. I was glad that I was sitting on the other side of a pay phone where the guy couldn’t see my face as everyone in the hall was breaking up.

The poor guy was beyond words by now so he just scowled at us and started screaming, not words but only visceral sounds. He turned and stomped out the door and we all listened as he peeled out of the parking lot.

I don’t know if the man ever got the satisfaction he so desperately sought. One thing I do know; he is now acutely aware of who’s at the top of the D.M.V! Sadly, my reluctance of going to the D.M.V. is now worse because I know I’ll never have that much fun there again.

Danny Maybin’s family have fished and hunted in the area of Lake Summit for at least six generations. He is a state firearms instructor a, blacksmith, musician/luthier, and his favorite, a fishin’ and hunting resort facilitator. He also does voice acting, copywriting, and short story humor.