It started with a forgotten emmissions test about a month ago. I received a letter informing me that I was going to have to get it taken care of or I wouldn't be able to register my car. So I took care of it, and waited patiently for my forms to arrive in the mail.

But they didn't arrive. So I went to MVA today with a copy of the emmissions test in hand. Once there, I was informed that an unpaid parking ticket was holding up my registration. I admit it was my own stubborn fault. I just didn't realize that there was such a thing as a 24-7 parking meter in Baltimore, especially when the fine print on the meter was unreadable and there were no signs saying when the meters were in effect. Then, when I returned to my car after my gig, I allowed myself to slip into a serious state of denial.

Anyway, the nice lady at MVA gave me a place in line and a phone number to call and take care of the ticket. I dialled the number from my pay-as-you-go cellphone and was put on hold for about 15-20 minutes ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$). Right after the phone was answered on the other end, I heard this obnoxious "Beeeeeep" from my cellphone. "Time to top up your phone!" Well shit.

So I paid the damned phone ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$). Then I dialled the ticket number again, and waited another 15 minutes ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$). The pleasant woman I spoke with was able to give me the citation number and the cost of the ticket; but then she said I'd need to call yet another number to make the payment ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$), then I would need to call her back to give her the confirmation number and a fax number to send the info to ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$).

I must say, Chip was most congenial and efficient as he took my info over the phone ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$), and I didn't have to wait long for them to take my money. Another 10 minutes later ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$), the ticket info lady took my call again, and faxed the info to MVA. I was able to get some knitting done before my number popped up at the window.

Then a woman who was most decidedly in foul humor took my ticket number and stared at me. Silly me, I thought she wasn't going to call my number until she'd received the fax; but of course she had no idea why I was there and proceeded to chew me out for not realizing that to begin with. Then she asked how long ago the ticket lady had said she'd send the fax. I estimated about 15 minutes, then was told I'd need to wait about 10 more minutes and step up to window 6 (or was it 666?) to see if my fax had arrived.

I knitted some more, then went to window 6, where a polite gentleman told me the fax had not yet arrived. He suggested I wait another 10 minutes or so. I knitted some more. I knitted a lot more. I returned to the window and exchanged eyerolls with another woman who was waiting for a fax to come through, then I sat down and knitted a lot more again.

An hour later, the eyeroll woman excitedly walked up to me and said, "I think he has your fax!" If I'd had a beer on me, I would have given it to her. I picked up the fax and returned to the grouchy woman, who must have had lunch and felt better. She then took my check ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$), including a $30 fine ($$$chomp, chomp, chomp$$$), and sent me on my way.

I know...There's nobody to blame but myself. But I'm still gonna gripe about it.