Tuesday, March 19, 2019

After the fit that I had

back about eight weeks ago, PennDOT* sent me a letter:

Basically (but in a much wordier way) it proclaimed the "Notice of Recall of your Driving Privilege" (capitol letters, theirs; as though it is a distinguished title of some sort) the same thing about which the doctor in the hospital had warned me.
 
This sentence in Penn DOT's letter informed me:
"If you do not return all current driver's license products, this matter will be referred to the Pennsylvania State Police for prosecution under Section 1571 (a) (4) of the Pennsylvania Vehicle Code. "

Well, Reader Dear, I did not wish to have the state police showing up at my door with a pair of handcuffs, so, I made steps to deliver the (now considered precious) Driver's License to the Penn DOT center.
A friend dropped me off at 1:15 on a Friday.  I was planning to summon the HM to pick me up when finished...in, perhaps an hour?

Reader Dear, I walked in the door and gasped.  There were at least sixty or perhaps seventy persons seated and milling around in the big, open room.  I looked for the check-in desk and there was a line, which I joined.

When it was my turn to get a paper slip with a number, I asked the young man approximately how long I'd have to wait.


"Well," he responded.  "It's a long wait.  We're short-staffed today.  It will be at least two hours.  Maybe two-and-a-half.  Maybe more.  But here is your number.  You will be called in the order that you came in the door!"

"Ahh.  A long wait, for sure!" I exclaimed.  "But, you're saying that I will be called in order?  Someone coming later won't be called before me?"

"That's right," he assured me (He gave me other instructions and information, as well; I won't bore you with it right now, Reader Dear).
************
I found myself a seat (nothing comfortable to be found, all of them hard and plastic, but thank goodness for chairs!)  For a while, I watched and waited.  I used the Ladies Room (an only-one-person affair [for this massive crowd?] and somewhat dingy and dirty [but, thank goodness for a Ladies Room!])

I waited some more, half-heartedly read a magazine I'd carried along in my anticipation of a one-hour wait.



Then I had a sudden inspiration:  Since I don't get out much these days, why not peruse the shops around the PennDOT center.  The building is in a long strip, out of the area I'm used to shopping.  I could at least stroll around and see what was out there?
I went back to the check-in desk. 
"Sure," said the guy.  "Just check back about every 20 minutes or so.  You've still got more than a two-hour wait at the very least."

"REALLY?" I asked. "But an awful lot of people have come in after me.  Are you sure you're going according to the numbers?"

"Yes, yes," he answered.  "And the letters."

"Wait, what?" Reader Dear, it was time for a little interrogation.

"You've got a 'C' number.  That means every time they call a 'C' number, it will be closer to your spot."

"Now, wait a minute," I told him.  "You told me that absolutely I'd be taken in the order that I walked in the door."
"Yes, yes.  You will be!" were his final words. (Don't get nervous.  I'm only talking about his final words in that one conversation, Dear Reader!)

*******
Let's skip ahead about a half-hour (or two).  The guy at the desk had allowed as how I could leave the building and have a little look-around outside.  Fortunately, though the weather was cold, it was not too bitter.  I walked out onto the sidewalk and spotted a Goodwill Store immediately next door to the PennDot center.  Eureka! I thought.  I can easily spend time  here, away from the madding crowd, yet handily close to it.





As soon as I walked in the door of the Goodwill Store, I spotted an interesting array of vintage model cars (two shelves worth!)  Wow.  I chatted with the sales person, and she verified my assumption that someone must have donated a life-time collection.


It was a tempting display!  I had to preach myself a little sermon:

"They are taking away your license due to a seizure.  Don't let them make any excuses to extend the restriction because of  Complete Insanity!  In other words, NO BUYING OF CARS!"  (Perhaps, Reader Dear, I was just pining for the use of a car, any car!)

I spent a long time looking at the cars.
"Don't rush," I said to myself as my sermon veered off in a new direction.  "You want to spend at least an hour here!"

Reader Dear, fortunately, it was a nice big Goodwill Store.  I tried on a few pieces of clothing.  I looked through books.  I shopped the housewares section and the toys.

I did not take his picture (and rue it now), but struck up a friendship with Leon (an adorable, curly-haired five-year-old in the toy section, happily playing with a toy golf bag and clubs).

"Would you like to have that toy? (I had noticed him playing with it for a very long time) 
He nodded, and I told him,  "I'm going to get it for you.  We need to find your mama first.  Where's your mama?" 

His eyes lit up and he ran to find her.
Dear Reader, jumping over lots of other small details (as this story is getting quite as lengthy as my PennDOT wait), when Leon thanked me bilingually ("What do you tell the lady?" his mama had prompted him) it was the highlight of my day! Gracias.  Thank you!

*******
But, time keeps passing.
Reader Dear, I'm sick of waiting!
I'm sick of returning to the check-in guy at the PennDot desk.
I'm sick of hearing "Still a long wait."
I'm sick (I must admit) of entailing the details for you, Reader Dear!

*******
When I had returned to the still-overflowing crowd in the PennDOT center for the final time at 3:45 ( I had asked the check-in guy once again about the wait and got the same respons [still a long wait]),
 I had asked the woman seated next to me:
"How long have you been waiting?"
"About an hour,"  she had replied.

**********
It was about four-fifteen when they called her number (do the math, I beg you, Reader Dear [lies and corruption at the PennDOT center!  They were clearly not taking the numbers in order!])

**********
"I'm liable to be here another two hours!" I thought to myself.
My blood pressure was rising (I just knew it).
"I'm liable to have another fit (of one kind or another)!"

*********
One of the windows where (what do I call them, customers?) were being addressed, was directly in front of me.   The man behind the counter was temporarily free.  I rushed to the counter.
"I'M AN OLD WOMAN!" I declared. (What, did I assume that was not evident?! No time for sermons to myself, however).  I rushed on,  
"All I've got to do is turn in my license because of a seizure.  I've been waiting for three hours!  I did not eat any lunch!  (Was there a reason I threw in that fact? But, I'd had no time for speech-planning, as I noted, Reader Dear)   
"I was told we would be taken in the order that we walked in the door!  That is not true!!"

The poor man tried to refute my charge.  But I pointed out my evidence, and he had to admit it.  All the "C" numbers would be called in order.  But the "C" numbers are randomly called.  Along with every other group of numbers--randomly called!  They are only called in order according to your letter!
I threw a little fit.

He very grudgingly huffed, "You got your license?"
I handed it over.
He gave me papers to sign.
"You want an ID card?"
"I was told by the check-in guy that by law I have to have one."
"You don't," he said.
"Well, I think I want one," I said.
"Wanna use your old photo?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.  "If it's quicker."
"Yep," he said, and disappeared for a few minutes.
"Here you go," he said when he came back.
"Sign these  additional papers," he said.
Six minutes later I was leaving the center with my ID card in hand.

*************
Sigh.  End of story!
Except for this:      



Same photo.  IDENTIFICATION CARD

NOT FOR REAL ID PURPOSES














*Pennsylvania Department of Transportation

***********
THE END!
FOR REAL!
 

1 comment:

LTF said...

But, you were meant to connect with Leon so that is why you had to wait. You had an affect on the rest of his life. After you fulfilled that fateful meeting, you were given the power to stand up for yourself and end the story.

A good lesson for a children 's book, perhaps??!!