My Trip to the Underworld So, there I was about to enter a place only those in the bravest moments of their lives dared to go. It was rainy, but it was a light rain and the sky was overcast much as you would see when watching one of those black and white horror movies. I went by car and on the trip there all I could think of was the terror I would face. You see I knew about this terror since I had faced it a few times before and managed to get away almost unscathed. Would that hold true for my visit this time? Only time would tell, but first I had to find a place to park. Holding true to its reputation this place would not easily let cars in. As I drove around the fields of cars I knew this was going to be the first challenge I was going to face. Cars were lined up everywhere waiting for that one precious space to open up, but I had a secret weapon and it was a handicapped pass and one car gave up it place where the other cars couldn’t go, but I could. I parked my car but didn’t get out right away. I had to build up my courage first. It wasn’t easy since humans had a natural repugnance for this place. It seems we were born with an aversion to it, at least that was what one person told me. I could see the bedraggled masses leaving the place, their faces covered with sweat clutching bags full of document which were starting to droop as the rain droplets hit them. They stared off into the distance as those who had some horrible experience were apt to do. Some angrily bumped into others and without a “sorry” or “excuse me” went sullenly on their way. This place had taken the spirit away from many a person for the last one hundred plus years. I wondered if it was some secret test program run by the CIA to see how much pain a human could stand. I decided there was no sense waiting in the car any longer and got out. People entering the gates of hell usually tried to run, but the people heading toward this place were mostly running toward it. I wondered about why they would do this when they knew the pain they were going to feel. As I entered I noticed there was a swinging door to get in, but a much more menacing cage like structure with a revolving many piped turnstile which stood about 7 feet tall you had to use to get out. It was as if they didn’t want you to leave, but they begrudgingly had to so they would make it as hard as possible, possibly to get you to change your mind. Once I was inside I was forced on to what seemed like an endless line. It slowly choked along to one window where a woman who was in no particular hurry would inquire what you wanted and give you a number. This was no ordinary number in the sense of the numbers you might get at a bakery which ran in numerical order. This was a mysterious number because there were many different types of numbers. Some started with a B, some with an F or W, some with an R. I took my secret number and looked over at the place. It had seats for hundreds of people, very hard bench seats, but the problem was there were far more people than seats. People were milling around and they seemed angry but it was hard for me to tell since half of them didn’t speak English. I looked up at one of the boards where the numbers were posted. It was 11:00 am. I went there early because I wanted to beat the lunch hour. As I looked at the mysterious numbers I could hear groans as new numbers were posted. One person had said they thought they had 72 people in front of them, but they had forgotten there were all sorts of numbers so if you had a B number, let’s say B75 and they were on B10 it didn’t mean there were 65 ahead of you since there were the same numbers with different letters. Instead of 65 there might have been over 300. As I watched these numbers come and go I realized there was even more mystery in what was going on because some of the lower numbers were being repeated. I thought to myself why would this be, was there some kind of hanky-panky going on? I would find the answer to this sometime later. As I sat there I watched the hours drift away. Surely this was some sort test after all I thought because no reputable place would make people wait this long. Just then I heard a very officious voice come over the speaker system. It was a female voice which was chastising us for not taking the papers we had out of their envelopes before going up to a window when our numbers were finally called. The voice finished by telling us the wait was about 30 minutes and yet many of us had already been there over 2 hours by then. If there ever was a group of people ready to revolt it was us. Old ladies were angry, young children were crying and there was a general atmosphere of disgust with the powers that be. Finally, as I watched the numbers coming up and then down, my number was reached. I thought thank goodness, I was so sore from sitting on those benches I couldn’t wait to leap off. I practically ran up to the designated window where a lady asked me for my papers which I gladly gave her and she okayed the form I had filled out and took my photo. I thanked her and said I had been here for hours and couldn’t wait to leave. Then she hit me with the remark, “Oh this is only your first stop” and clipped the papers together along with my magic number and told me to take a seat until I was called again. I waited another 20 minutes and my number came up again and I took my papers and went to another counter where they checked all my papers again. I guess they don’t trust each other. This time I was told there was no support for my middle initial. Fear crept over me as I thought I wasted almost 3 hours and I asked if I could get the document I needed without using my middle initial and to my surprise the answer was yes if I paid $110.50 and passed the eye test. So, went my trip to the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles for an enhanced driver’s license. |
