Since when do you hear anyone pronounce their love for the DMV.
At 10 this morning, I gritted my teeth as I headed down State Street in Montpelier. State Street is a traffic nightmare, because it's where all the state and federal offices are located and yes, the State House is actually literally directly across the street from the DMV. Mind you, I'd already nearly given myself a heart attack because when I went to check my bank balance this morning, I was told my account had been closed. So I'd been sweating in the bank for twenty minutes until it was determined to be a computer error.
So I was in no shape for the DMV. But, heading down State, the traffic wasn't bad. Then, there's a parking space directly across from the DMV. As I get out, I realize that I'm standing right at the steps of the State House. There's no one around. Then, a fellow comes out of a building as I'm going to the parking meter, stops to pick up something, and walks over to me and before I can put in my quarter, he sinks a quarter in - what he'd just picked up from the ground - into the meter for me.
Then I go upstairs to the DMV, prepared for a long line at the Info counter. Nope, I was the first on line. Got my papers, went to fill them out, only to discover I'd left the house without my existing license for renewal. Walk back over to the woman, prepared to beg, and she just says, "No problem!" She looks up my last license, checks me against the picture, she tells me I've lost weight, and hands me a number to be called for help. I walk into the sitting area and just as I'm lowering my ass in a chair, my number flashes on the monitor. Say what?
I walk down to the clerk, and three minutes and $35 later, I walk away with a license good for four years. The entire time at the DMV - and mind you, I updated the registration on a car, too - was 9 minutes, three of that spent looking for the old license.