Crazy Courthouse: Part Two of the Dreaded DMV

A while back I wrote about my perilous adventures at the DMV, otherwise known as Zombie-land.

If you’ve ever been to the DMV (and if you’re a human you most certainly have), the term ‘Zombie-land’ requires no explanation.  As we all well know, humans do not work at the DMV.

Since then I have the misfortune  opportunity of visiting DMV’s wicked sister, the lovely Los Angeles County Courthouse.  I had some business I had to wrap up there, having put it off as long as I could, well aware that she could eat me alive if she so fancied.  This is, of course, why I so lovingly (and aptly) refer to her as the Black Widow.

In order to increase my odds of survival, I bring my dear friend Sarah along to create a diversion if absolutely necessary.  Sarah is a good friend indeed.

Upon first entering the building, we find before us a monstrous sign that reads like the who’s who of the entire universe.

In Chinese


After staring at the thing for, I don’t know, roughly 20 zillion minutes, we finally come to the conclusion that it would probably be better for us to just spin around and randomly point in a direction to determine a guess on where we should begin our journey.

Having done this, and ending up in the men’s restroom, ahem, we decide instead to ask directions from the fellow standing stoically at the entrance, wearing a faux security uniform. Oh yes, you remember these guys from the dreaded DMV, don’t you?  The gentlemen in uniform intending to give some impression of security without actually having any security to offer? Yes yes, he is one of them.


The good news is, of course, we do not need any security (yet) and even if we did, it would be to protect us from the dreaded Black Widow, for whom the pseudo security man works anyhow. Directions are all we request and all we receive, via a dispassionate finger pointing down the giant hallway to our left.

After following more signs down more hallways, we finally arrive at our destination.  As it turns out, our destination is an enormous sign-less room filled with exceptionally confused and befuddled humans trying to communicate with a group of sullen and sinister looking minions of the Great Widow herself.  As we observe this scene with more than a little trepidation, I am reminded of what happens to ants when you drop a bit water atop their line.

Mass confusion.


And, as I said, no signs. Anywhere.  What is this?  The second trip to the twilight zone?


After staring at the room for a while Sarah gives me a little push to snap me out of my stupor, and I finally just jump into a line and hope for the best. But the best is yet to come, so it seems, for when I arrive at the front, the Minion who could not smile says in a gruff, emotionless voice,

“Did you fill out your form?”

“I’m sorry, which form?”

“That one”

At this he points in the direction of a wall lined with forms. Big forms, little forms, everywhere a form form.

“um, which one?”

“THAT one” again he points towards the wall with a million forms on it. “NEXT!”

I jump back out of line so as to avoid the line of fire coming out of his mouth, and look at Sarah in hope’s that she’s caught something I missed.  She raises an eyebrow at me and I wonder if we’re screwed. I mean, I could just fill out every form there and give it to the minion…..

Just when I begin to seriously contemplate this option, my angel appears out of no where and taps my shoulder.

A big, handsome black dude (human or angel, but certainly not minion) is suddenly standing beside me, leaning on a stack of paperwork I swear is almost as tall as he is.

Excuse me, sounds like you’re not being helped at all.  This is the form you need to fill out, and that is the line you need to get in once it’s done.’

At that he tips his hat and is gone before I can even thank him. If it weren’t for that fellow, I am certain Sarah and I would still be standing in the sign-less room staring at it’s vast signless-ness.

After filling out the correct form, the minion who cannot smile directs me to another room and I submit my form and am told to sit down and wait for my name to be called.  Sarah finds a seat and I find a wall to lean on while pulling out the book I brought to read. Ah, “World War Z’

How very fitting.

Suddenly, about 20 minutes later I pull my head out of my book because Sarah is poking me.

‘Jen, they called Jenny’

‘but thats not my name’

‘yeah, but they don’t know that’

Ok, so I have this thing about my name. I’ve never been able to go by Jenny, just doesn’t work for me and I have never responded it. I find it strange that they would use that name to call me since that isn’t what I wrote down, but then again we are in crazy land.

I step up to a window where another expressionless face is stationed, staring into space.

‘Excuse me mam, I am not sure if you called me name or not, is there any way you can check? I don’t go by Jenny’

Nothing. Not even an acknowledgment that I am standing there.


Still no response, it’s like she’s staring right through me. Oh wait, a see a little twitch in her left eye, maybe she can hear me.

“excuse me I-”

“Girl” She cuts me off,  if you want help you have to ring the bell!”

To my astonishment, she points to the window directly beside her where a bell sits.

You’ve got to be kidding. I stare deep into her fiery yet expressionless eyes. Nope, she’s not kidding.

I take one step over and ring the bell. At this ( and I kid you not) she slowly gets up from her chair, moves to the window with the bell and smiles flatly at me.

“Oh hello, how may I help you?”

She is now looking at me as if for the first time. I cannot help but crack a smile because I might as well enjoy hilarity of it while I’m here.  Sarah is grinning too, as well as the entire group of humans sitting there behind me.

here you are Jenny, all done’

Finally, after much ado, we hasten back out to the real world at last, leaving the Widow and her minions behind us.

The End

Oh yes, and we took a picture afterwards in downtown LA to prove our survival



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