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Thursday, March 16, 2017

The Writer's Life 3/16 - DMV Blues

I left the apartment at 10:25 AM on my way to the DMV in Coney Island, about a half-hour walk. I refused to leave the spot my Hyundai was in, as the piles of snow are making parking even more difficult than usual. My license needed renewal. I tried to anticipate any roadblocks the bureaucrats might throw my way, knowing Murphy's Law often applies, despite the improvements made in the process. I even brought proof my car had been inspected, although I was sure I was over-thinking. Things looked good for a while. I was in line for only a half-hour or so. I handed my papers to the slim, attractive woman at the counter, who looked them over, then walked to the desk of who I assumed was a supervisor. She returned and said she couldn't accept the proof of eye exam, as it lacked a stamp and the doctor's ID number. I sensed she thought I'd forged it, even the signature. She asked me to read the seventh line on a nearby eye chart. The first six were clear, the one in question a blur. She suggested I try it with my glasses. I explained that they were for reading, but gave it a shot, anyway. No dice. The woman apologized, and I said it wasn't her fault. I made the long walk to the doctor's office, another half-hour, certain I would find it closed. Fortunately, it wasn't. I explained the problem and the women at the desk accommodated me, apologizing. I resisted the urge to tear into them, reminding myself that it was a once-in-five years ordeal and that the weather and ice made the floating book shop impossible to operate, so there was really no time lost. A half-hour later I was back on line at the DMV. The woman who'd serviced me previously went on break just as I moved to number one. A beautiful woman to my far left called my attention. She may have been Latina. It was hard to tell. I found it difficult not to stare at her face. She barely scanned the paperwork. I was done in minutes, the cost just short of $125. I was starting to feel tired during the long trek back to Sheepshead Bay. I was sweating beneath the layers I'd donned and hoped I wouldn't catch cold, as the unfriendly wind that has been around, seemingly forever, continues to blow. I stopped at CVS, and who happened to be there but the Lady Eve, who had recommended the doctor to me. I told her I was in the early stages of glaucoma, and she asked if anyone in my family had had it. I didn't know. I explained there is a chance the problem may be completely reversed through the use of eye drops, which I will be using the rest of my life, and she was relieved to hear that. I was surprised the stuff cost only $45 for a three-month supply. I'd expected at least double that. So my monthly prescription bill is now up to about $25, which is nothing. And now only two chores remain, a trip to the dentist and the annual physical. It was just before two PM when I got home. I was bushed. I fell asleep while reading.
Vic's Sixth novel: 
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