dudemanflab's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elderly Gentleman in the DMV, peering in a box to pass a vision test

--A? --No. --X? --No. --O? --No.
--Well, there are only so many of them...

--What do you think, Rosa? It's been over--
--No sir! you will not let her look at that. You would be immediately disqualified if she tells you the answer.

--I only asked her if she even saw a letter! She wasn't going to tell me a thing.
He turns to her, --Did you see it?

His wife nods. She is like a lab stuck between two loyalties. Her eyes flit--the counter, her husband, the counter... She has grace enough not to clutch her purse.

--Sir, if you do something like that again you will be disqualified.
--Ok, ok.

He settles his glasses and forehead and bridge against the box. He wears a dark pink polo shirt, sky blue Wranglers, rounded tennis shoes. Hunched forward with his tail in the air, he must be uncomfortable.

--Why don't you move him on to the driving portion?
--Good idea.

--S? --No. --J? No.

I leave wondering how long he'll stand waiting for blurs to condense into alphabet.

9:33 p.m. - February 12, 2008

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next