Welcome To The DMV: Home Of The Brain Farts
I recently had my purse stolen, which necessitated getting a new copy of my driver’s license. After a three-hour wait at the DMV (seriously), I finally got to the employee at the counter. He was helpful until it came time for me to pay. All I had was a hundred-dollar bill — no credit cards because of the stolen purse — and my total was $30.
Me: “Can you make change for a hundred?”
Employee: “Sure, I think so. Let’s see.”
He opened his drawer, took out a fifty-dollar bill, and eyed the scant few bills he had left.
Employee: “Err, one sec.” *Turning to the employee next to him* “Hey, do you have change for a fifty?”
She gave him two twenties and a ten, and he handed her the fifty. Then turned back to me.
Employee: “Okay, so, the twenty plus the…”
He stared at where the fifty had been — the one he had just handed to his coworker — and then at the bills in his hand. Then, he let out a huge sigh. I could SEE the defeat in his eyes.
Employee: “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I’ll take your hundred-dollar bill and go get change from the manager’s office, okay? I’ll be right back.”
He did eventually give me the correct change, but it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one dead inside after spending too long at the DMV!