If science worked as quickly and efficiently as the DMV, the Hair Club for Men president would still be bald. Also, he’d probably be dead from a head cold.
- Me, silently to myself, this morning

Lauren finally has her Georgia driver’s license, but not without us both having to endure the infected toe nail of the galaxy, the DMV, for 45 minutes.

The DMV truly is a magical place. And by magical, I mean mind-numbingly horrific. I look around at the people Lauren is in line with and I’m terrified by the thought that these people are about to be behind the wheels of thousand pound vehicles.

One man, who was wearing – I kid you not – a shower cap on his head, had to have the DMV worker explain to him three times that he could not get his license reinstated until he had paid his seven – count ‘em – seven tickets.

Another man, who was wearing overalls and hair down to shoulders, went to counter #5 when he had been told to go to counter #1. Upon being told of his mistake, I overheard the man say, “I always get them two mixed up.”

Allow that to soak in for a moment.

The next time you’re driving, make sure to periodically glance in your rear view mirror to see who’s behind you. If you see a man with a shower cap on his head or a guy with long hair and a “Lynard Skynard is #5″ sticker on his bumper, drive as fast as you can.