I am twenty-one years and two days old today. I really can't concentrate with this smooth jazz playing. It's been 27 minutes already. Now 29 minutes. I feel like I am lost in a Full House episode. Cut-it-out.
I finally talked to a lady. She made me feel like Danny feels when DJ tells him she doesn't want him to sing in front of her friends. I had forgotten how small and dumb I was. It was nice of her to bring that to my attention.
That reminds me. I had a little trouble paying attention in class today. Unfortunately, when I was switching hands to lean my face on, my teacher thought I was trying to answer the question. I had no idea what the question was and had to ask him to repeat it. The other kids laughed at me. Like that happens in college. Anyways, I still had no idea what he was talking about when he repeated it so I just muttered something like "education means money, like, you know, you've got a lot of it so you are realistic and um... cuz when you understand stuff you, uhhh...appreciate it. So, social class plays a role." Then the teacher gave me that, "that has nothing to do with what I asked but I am going to try to keep speaking to you and moving my hands as if you said something of value" face. I really need to learn that face before I become a teacher.
On my birthday I got a package that they stuffed so tightly in the mailbox I couldn't pull it out. After literally ten minutes of pulling at it, which ruined my hair by the way, I had to destroy it with my mail key and pull out the contents. Wouldn't you know it... the empty box was still stuck in there. Doree had to drive over and pull it out for me. Must have been a sword in the stone thing. What a champ.
I guess I can conclude that my 21 years has taught me that DMV workers are all-knowing, when in doubt use phrases like "social class" and "you know what I mean," Doree is taller, stronger, and smarter than I am, and smooth jazz still sucks.
2 comments:
If you think the DMV is bad here do I have a story for you. It's not as funny as it is long and I know how people love hearing mission stories. The DMV in the Philippines or the LTO (Land Tranportation Office as it is known to the Pinoys), was about a 4hour wait to get called up. When I did get called up I had to go to a special potty room where an LTO lady stood about 7 feet behind me while I tinkled in a cup for a urine sample.
I do not like stepping in water in my socks! Especially in the kitchen...or when you get something stuck to them whilst in kitchen; makes me crazy. DMV really puts into perspective what the world would run like in a Marxist world. Imagine if you went to get ice cream. You would have to fill out a form if you wanted different scoops, etc. Not cool. Plus commie ice cream would probably be pretty bland.
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