The DMV -Department of Mutants and Vagrants

I could leave the title, saying nothing else, and everyone would be nodding their head in agreement, remembering their last horrendous experience with the B.O., the everlasting waiting, and the dregs of society. That is because every single one of us has had the unique experience of making the trek to the DMV, or as I have properly renamed it, the Absolutely Most Disgusting Place to Ever Spend More than 10 Seconds. Sounds pretty accurate, right?

The DMV is a place like no other (unless you count places like Hell, purgatory, and a junior high boys' bathroom), and thats a good thing. Seriously. I walked in and immediately felt dirtier, stupider, and angrier. You walk in as a clean, respectable individual and leave a complete gromit (Jon's word...). In 46 hours (the time it takes to get a license), I acquired a hunch in my spine, started dragging my back leg, grew 89 warts with hairs growing out of the middle, and utilized my newly developed 9-inch nails to scratch at my dander and lice. I was one amongst hundreds.

Let me just give a completely accurate and not-exaggerated-in-the-slightest description of some of the 'characters' (for lack of a better word... wait. 'Specimens' would work), I encountered while diseasing myself. First person is Snoop Dawg's 3rd cousin. This guy comes in with the greasiest hair imaginable, but manages to remember to bring his pimpin' cane with him (not for actual need, but more of a prop to propel his absolute 'coolness'). He also didn't forget to wear his pants 74 sizes too big, and could definitely not have left home without his 'grill,' a mesmerizing display of golds, silvers, other metals dug deep from the earth, and molding greens and yellows. He was roughly 52 pounds, with legs as skinny as his cane and had last eaten some rotting skunk flesh, or so his breath alluded to.

One of the other note-worthy creatures sweating and infesting the DMV, was the guy next to me. He seemed nice enough, and clean enough, until he asked me why everyone was asking me questions about the DMV (they seriously did, too. Every person seemed to seek me out and ask what rotting line they needed to stand in. I never really knew, so I just pointed them to lines that looked farthest away from where I was standing.). We chatted for a while, when he asked me point blank, who the savior and redeemer of the world was. I answered him correctly, to which I earned myself a high-five. Great. I just remembered a classic commandment to the DMV; Thou Shalt not Touch Anyone or Anything Should You Wish to not have to Make an Immediate Trip to the Hospital. Anyway, after my flashback of being in 7th grade and guys thinking it was cool and hip to give high-fives, he continued his sermon with, "He saves me every day and every night." I didn't know if I should shout 'Amen!' or start rolling on the ground like I was feeling super divinity, but I opted with, "Uh, me too?" That seemed to please him since he offered another round of high-fives, to which I earned myself another flesh-eating disease.

My whole objective in going to the caves of hell, formally known as the DMV (Demented and Mangy Vagabonds), was to get my license changed, and was quickly told that I was going to have to take a written test. I couldn't believe it. Seriously? I've been driving for like, six years and have only gotten in 3 car accidents, received a minimum of 10 tickets, been booted twice, and was forever banned from BYU for too many parking tickets. I'm pretty sure the whole system is rigged since I saw a 107 year old grandma get in line, get her picture taken, ask the person next to her what the little green men were doing with the buried treasure, and walk away with her license. Anyway, I ended up having to take their test, failed once, but eventually passed (there were questions like, "How far should you park away from a fire hydrant that is located on a hill in the middle of the night with a dog, bottle of water, and a hammer in the car?" and "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?" with the correct answer being, "I never have"). Josh thinks that the guy cheated for me, since I had made friends with the giant troll working the written test section of the DMV. Either way, I get my license mailed to me in 3-4 years.