Today I went to the DMV and as soon as I plucked my number (#50) I started worrying. I had to have an eye test! Testing of one's physical accuity in a public arena has always bothered me, all the way back to the Sit-n-Reach, one of the many feats we were asked to perform as part of the President's Fitness Challenge test battery in grade school. And during the flexed arm hang or the mile run, I cared much less about the actual grade I'd get than about how I'd look in front of my peers. And when you worry about such things so deeply, you're bound to have your ass handed to you at some point, as I did when I slipped and fell on the balance beam while attempting to meet yet more PE criteria in 8th grade. Mrs. Vollendorf announced that I'd probably bruised my pubic bone, which sent the entire class into gales of laughter. My best friend, resentful at the way I'd been showing off in the first place, said I only had it coming. But really. What kind of physical education curriculum asks you to run down a 4-inch wide polished wooden beam raised 3 feet off the floor while wearing slipperyass socks? A very sadistic kind, that's what.
But back to the DMV. I recently got glasses, and I was torn about whether or not I should wear them during the test. I didn't, and couldn't read an entire line of letters. So the DMV lady told me to put the glasses on. I could then read the letters, but I was all disoriented and tripped on a mat near the photo station. Plus, my photo made me look slightly mentally stunted. Double plus (or negative, rather), I recently trimmed my own hair, which only drew attention to my thousand-pound face and drooltastic expression. So either the DMV likes the "Zoom In" feature, or I'm actually becoming a bobblehead.
Bottom line, the whole experience was somewhat unsettling. But I'm going to dinner with my parents tonight, so there's bound to be juicy material to post later.
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