Driver bemoans the bureaucracy of the DPS

Nikki Lyssy

The Texas Department of Public Safety is organized hell. No one denies this. Satan most likely had a part in creating it. The fluorescent lighting of the waiting area eats away at your soul as you try and entertain yourself for the hour-long wait. Even the children are starkly aware of the evil presence within the building. So much so that they cannot contain their cries for escape.
You go in feeling confident that the line won’t be that bad, but then you get there and kick yourself for not finding an office with more attendants available to scoot you out faster. So you sit there and wallow in your self-pity because if you leave now, you have to begin the process over again and risk waiting in yet another line. Now you’re stuck looking for something to do without gouging your eyes out. So you sit there. And sit there. And sit there. Maybe consider walking to a fast-food place. Or trying to sleep sitting up; but you always end up just sitting there. Just sitting there with hate in your heart and hate in your toes.

But then there’s a light at the end of the tunnel: they finally call your number. You go to the little cubicle and fork over your paperwork and the light dies a little bit when the attendant asks for your money. You take a deep breath and remind yourself that it’s for the greater good of public safety, so you do what the nice person asks. And soon enough you get in front of that strange blue-colored screen and take a headshot then you’re out! You’re finally free from hell! You breathe in the clean Texas air and thank your lucky stars that it’s all over…until the next time.