Four Hours and Fifteen Minutes

Today Kevin & I went to get our Enhanced Drivers Licenses. For those of you not living in Washington State, these licenses are in lieu of a passport & enables travel into Canada. We've put it off for over six months. Now Kevin is crewing on a racecar, oh, next weekend so we were working on a deadline.

We arrived at 8:15 AM, the office opens at 8:30 AM and we were about #20. YIKES. And yes, I will hear for the rest of my natural born life how Kevin was right and we should have gotten there earlier.

Kevin & I have what I call bad audience karma. We invariably sitt next to the tool that screams at the players, sings along with the band, etc. Today was no exception.

If your son is named Corbin and he's college age, overweight, with red uncut hair, apparently never showers, and has no freaking boundaries whatsoever, I'm sorry but your son is a massive TOOL.

As we are standing in line he approaches. Just on appearance alone I believe the entire group groaned "ah, feck". He makes noise so that we all realize that he's arrived.

He's with a normal appearing, quiet guy whose motives we questioned all morning.

Tool boy was in line for a minute when he says loudly "Oh my God, I don't have my paperwork!"
The friend sighs and gives him the car keys. Off he goes to the car and we remain, praying that he can't find his paperwork.
He returns, he can't find it, I do a happy dance in my head. His friend says "Check the trunk."

Sadly, his paperwork is in the trunk. We are all sorely disappointed.

The doors open and a person is directing everyone where to go. She hands everyone that is getting their EDL a sheet that very specifically and clearly details what a person needs.

The person explains to the entire crowd how the process works. Tool Boy raises his hand.
Of. Course. He. Does.

Turns out he doesn't have the proper documentation on a variety of levels. We are momentarily relieved but he decides to try it anyway. OMG.

We sit next to the wall with only one row of chairs in front of us. Tool Boy and friend sits right in front of us. Ah feck.

He can't sit still, he can't be quiet. He is That Guy, that guy who thinks he's the funniest, smartest guy in the entire state. Clearly he is not. He hasn't showered, his clothes were disheveled At Best. I don't believe he was mentally ill. I think he was truly just obnoxious.

Kevin and I quietly begin sarcastically commenting, in hopes that this will keep us from killing him. We really needed our enhanced licenses after all.

Tool Boy starts mocking the process of the Dept of Licensing. We have all done this but most of us don't do it loudly and before we've been helped. The Genius also begins throwing around words like "terrorist" "Bombing" "killing" Brilliant.

We hear him ask his friend "How many girlfriends have I had"
I reply "I'm guessing ZERO." Snickers begin.

His phone rings and he answers it. Kevin says "It has to be his mom because no one else would call that guy."

At one point he had to go out the car. We all reveled in the relative silence and stillness. Sadly, he returns. About twenty minutes later a DOL worker announces to the crowd that he found car keys in the actual car door.

Yes, you guessed it. He left the keys in the car, in a high crime neighborhood. This is the only time we saw the friend react. He was not happy.

At one point Tool Boy begins making noises for the sake of noise. I finally looked at him and said in my best teacher tone "PLEASE. STOP."
He turned, looking surprised. "I'm sorry" he says reflexively.
"Yeah." I answer, editing.

Kevin runs sees someone he knows and they chat. His friend returns to his seat and I wondered why he didn't just sit next to us. Clearly, I didn't think this through. The entire room was avoiding this guy.

Oh, the Ipod ear buds! He kept swinging them around his finger. People have glared, people have muttered, people have moved away until finally he hits about a seven-year-old boy in the head. NICE.

Kevin had a girl on his right and I had a girl on my left. Soon, all four of us are mocking him. Kevin's girl notices the ATM and says "I'm seriously considering withdrawing cash and offering it to him if he'll stand outside." We were All In on that idea.

The couple in front of us begin in our mocking of this tool. Now there are six of us commenting. I'm sure his friend could hear but none of us cared. Tool Boy became a common denominator among us and we bonded, much like hostages.

He begins making noise again and the girl to my left says "Excuse me" He turns and looks confused. "You are Really Loud." she says. "Sorry" he says, again. At this point, he actually quiets down.

One by one we all get called up for the first step of processing. One by one people begin to leave. Except Tool Boy and Friend and no one will sit next to him. Finally, a mother and teenaged son sit down next to him. We ponder how to let them know of their grave mistake because it quickly becomes apparent. Every time the teenager has an opportunity to move his chair away he takes it. The chair went from being flush to having about one feet separation. Tool Boy does not notice. And yes, he's swinging his ear buds around again.

Finally, they call him up and we all think "It's over. They're going to turn him away." A few minutes pass and he returns "We can be back in thirty minutes, let's go." And it's blissfully quiet.

But he returns. dammit. And it wasn't thirty minutes.

Kevin's friend returns and actually sits down to chat.

Just in time to see Tool Boy take a big ol' swipe at his nose. Brett is laughing uncontrollably and is making grossed out noises. Tool boy is oblivious. Kevin starts to giggle, that kind where you're not sure you're going to be able to stop.

Finally they call us for our final interview and we get to leave. As we're leaving, they recalled him. I'm hoping they deported him to somewhere. Anywhere.

Four hours fifteen minutes of our lives that we'll never get back.

But we can travel to Canada. And if there's a God, Tool Boy can't.