So it looks like you're stuck with me, Connecticut.
I went to DMV today and, lo and behold, the people at that soulless place approved everything.
I have a license. I have a registration. I have license plates.
In return, my New York license was taken from me and my old plates are to be surrendered to the Empire State.
With that, I think it's over. Almost.
But, yeah, the DMV is soulless. I'll say that 2.5 of the four people I dealt with were nice and even cool.
The woman who did my eye exam? Quick, professional, even a chuckle.
The woman who took care of my car registration? Not as quick (but that could have been her computer), but professional and seemed pretty cool. No, we didn't make lunch plans or share laughs but she did her job and didn't seem miserable.
The woman who is supposed to be the "greeter?" Well, I suppose she was overwhelmed but she was Sahara dry in her approach. Not quite "greeter" material.
Then we have the person I went to for my license. If there was an encyclopedia entry (always the World Book, by the way. Those things were awesome) for "miserable in her job and life" it would be her.
It was clear that I was anxious and nervous about all of this and she had the bedside manner of an alligator in a dog pound. No response to any of my "thank yous." No acknowledgment of literally anything. Look, I'm not there to be your best friend. Trust me on that. But, on the other hand, you're there for customer service and while I may be an idiot I'm still the friggin' customer.
A smile isn't necessary. I don't want your home phone number or go clubbing. I just want what I got from the latter two people I dealt with. Efficient and professional.
Not snarling.
I became a doddering fool in her presence. Even my -- get this -- initial license picture wasn't good enough for her because apparently my head was tilted somehow.
You know, I've only been having my picture taken for 53.5 years and have been told I take a decent shot. I didn't try to flirt with her or make love to the camera. I stood there and smirked. This wasn't "GQ" or "Terrible Broadcasters Weekly."
I'm a frequent cover boy on that publication.
On version two, apparently, my chin was too low. Or high. I really don't recall now what Annie Leibovitz of the DMV was saying (that is, growling). But, supposedly, she found it "acceptable." That or we were both recognizing this love affair wasn't going to work out and she just wanted to be done with the jackwagon from New York.
Oh, I don't doubt us New Yorkers (even former ones, such as we are) are hated.
On the other hand, read the 684 commuters page on Facebook about the "blue plates." As in Connecticut license plates.
Just remember, y'all, ya boy was a Noo Yawkah until a few hours ago, despite the new blue plate.
And I'll always have the 845 in my soul.
So don't judge.
*****
A quick note of congratulations to my friend Annabelle the Pinecone and her girl scouts troop in Wilton for an event to celebrate pride. Look, flag-waving really isn't my thing but, you know what is?
Acceptance.
I love and dislike people equally! I tease people equally!
I'm all about equal opportunity.
That's really all I am and I realize this is a political pier that I don't step out on very often.
Women should decide what to do with their bodies.
Love is love.
All should be accepted.
And we should laugh more and lighten up and stop being so sensitive.
And that, friends, is all I have to say about all of that.
Today was about Annabelle and her troop. Great job, girls. Keep spreading an important message.
And a shout out to Lucy (Snakey) who was doing face painting. She wanted to paint my face but it's probably a good thing she didn't.
She didn't have enough paint to fix my problems.
Or enough time.
*****
That's Mirror Universe Rob (thanks, AJ) or, as Chris Erway named him, "Bobbie Adams."
Further proving I wouldn't look good with facial hair.
And I need new glasses.
If that were me.
Which it's not.
Oh, and you should be safe to accept a friend request from me now if I've sent you one.
Which I haven't.
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