Ah, the DMV

One of my tweeps was at the DMV this morning, and the little exchange he and I had reminded me of a story.

Quite stupidly, I took my car to be inspected shortly after lunch time on a Friday. Now, “everyone” knows that if you go first thing-ish in the morning, you’ll be in and out without a line. I, however, went when the line was just about literally all the way around the block. And my registration expired something like the next day, so it wasn’t like I could come back at another time. I had a book, so even though the wait was ridiculous, I wasn’t too bored. Two and a half hours later, I’m third or fourth in line, and my car dies.

I kid you not. It just…shut off.

A guy working at the inspection station brought over their portable battery-jumper, gave me a jump (as it was the battery that died), and then criticized me for running the radio off of the battery. But nope, I’d been idling. Wasting gas, yes, but running down the battery, no.

I get to be the first in line, and…

You guessed it, the battery died. Again.

But you know what?

My car passed.

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