I had to go to DMV today. I couldn’t resolve the situation and California law required that I make a personal appearance. I went to a less used, DMV, predominantly serviced by inner city people. I know that you’re expecting me to say that the experience was horrible, but I had a blast. If I didn’t have other places to be, I would have hung out there through lunch.
Start with the visual: The Star Wars bar scene, only with an inner city cast.
It turns out that Willy is in jail for stealing a car. He might be the baby daddy of the lady who sat behind me for almost an hour, talking to other. Then again, there are 13 other possibles and she plans to blame it on a Christian gentleman who she seduced who would not ask for a blood test. He’s employed, which seem (in addition to gullibility) be his only charming attributes. The Christian is a bum lay, but that doesn’t seem to bother our heroin because she has other gentleman callers. Bless her heart.
Willy didn’t steal the car, his other girlfriend, Cleo has a brother who stole the car, planted some drugs and then loaned it to Willy and dimed him off to the po-lice. He owes money to Willy for a much larger supply of drugs, but since Willy is on parole, he’ll be going away for a long time. Cleo’s brother is hosting a party tonight at his home to celebrate with other hood rats.
The set up is apparently an open secret because there were three or four people seated behind me talking about it, and looking forward to the party on Willy’s dope.
Then there’s Otis, who is simple of mind, and is trying to get a job, ‘but he can’t get no job’, because everywhere he goes, he steals compulsively. The longest he’s been employed was about a week. Otis sat behind me for a while and was on the phone with his mama. Otis also apparently has a problem with being a ‘ticket magnet’ for the local constabulary who make their quota on him alone. One of the others at DMV gave him advice as to the best way to get welfare. The City of Los Angeles would appear to be the best place to go because the food kitchens are lavish and feature ‘soul food’ every day. They also work harder to get you onto government programs because you’re down on your luck – which led to an usual display of anger toward Koreans and Chinese. In the ghetto, it is Asians, running the convenience stores, who clash more with inner city people than white people. It’s good that inner city people don’t have the capacity to be racist, because the blaggarding went on and on.
Roland, turned out to be the biggest mountebank. He is a pimp by trade and while he was at DMV, the girls (who can not be trusted) called him, having jacked his pimp ride from the parking lot. The joy ride went on while he fumed. Meanwhile, he made other calls to girls who are part of another pimp’s “bitch line”, promising them a greater share of their own labors if they’d come over to him. The girls driving the car have a planned obsolescence, and I’m sure he’ll dump the bodies in Bakersfield.
Sounds entertaining, though I think I would have gone with a trustworthy friend or two to watch my back.
Nobody wanted to mess with the scary looking white dude?
I'm surprised nobody's done a TV series on the Kalifornia DMV. Or at least an Internet meme on "People Of The Kalifornia DMV".
We keep getting "URGENT!!!!" letters from the DMV warning us of increased penalties for registering our cars as they come due. ALL of our cars have been "VIN Verified", smogged, retitled, and reregistered in Colorado, at about ONE QUARTER of the cost it would be in Kommiefornia.
And we get 35% better fuel mileage, with fuel costing $1/gallon less, to boot.
Kommiefornia can go pound sand……
That's a story line NOBODY would believe… ROTFLMAO! LA IS truly stranger than fiction!
I remember when the ghetto use to bad mouth and belittle the Jews who owned all the stores and liquor stores. Some the owners were Greek, but they were Jews to the masses. I ran Coca Cola routs through the area and was told many times not to deliver to the Jews because they screwed their customers with high prices.
I must admit that I was armed and wore ballistic armor.
No. It's rare that happens. I also went in mufti, looking dangerous and poor. The logic in the inner city is that if a white guy is dangerous and poor and hangs where the hood rats hang, leave him alone. It's sound logic.
If you are afraid, the animals sense it.
"It's an animal thing" — youtube.com/watch?v=h9Rb7mT3juI
I received the same threatening letters for a while, but I registered them in AZ over a year ago, so the letters stopped.
They're loud, and speak openly. You gotta (heart) LA….
Jews and Greeks fled. Just the Koreans and Chinese remained and they're armed to the teeth.
There is also a pervasive logic that an old man has little to lose and will go "crazy" on the brothers and instead of going to jail, they end up in a cozy mental hospital until they're better. That's not how it works, but it's part of inner city lore.
I understand that completely having served in a 70% black engineer company circa 1965.
Just say "I ain't afraid to go back to prison…' That phrase has lots of leg…
I ain't afraid to go back to the mental hospital has more depth in the hood. I didn't wear a wristband and the white scrub top with LA COUNTY on it, emblematic of some of the half-way house types. I do own one, along with other garb that might suggest that I'm not quite right.
Brothers also don't like it when you mutter to yourself and giggle at times. I didn't do it this time because I didn't want to detract from the conversations. I was there for an hour and a half, far shorter than the standard wait at most DMV offices – 4 hours – in SoCal. But not many people go to the hood to handle their DMV business. I would have stayed longer. It was entertaining. Like a high end episode of the Kardashians, with the big bottomed women and their black boyfriends, talking smack.
What you said, drjim. Pound sand indeed.
We did not receive any letters, but then I made bloody well sure I mailed a hard copy of whatever their 'see ya' form was. We also noticed a distinct improvement in throttle response and MPG here (DFW area). Gas is cheaper, and electric power is LOTS cheaper (because you can shop around).
My wife says she worked for a guy who looked like Elmer Fudd in the flesh. Small, 90% bald, round, absolutely not threatening looking. He used to say he went into the hood whenever he felt like it. They'd look at him and say, "if somebody that looks like that comes 'round here, he must be a crazy mother f**ker – don't mess with him.
I also made sure the vehicles had a couple of tanks of REAL gasoline run through them, to get the Kalifornia Krap out of the fuel system.
My wife's sister-in-law who was just out here told us that TPTB are trying to get legislation passed to put a 25% tax on the proceeds from the sale of your house if you sell it and move out of Kalifornia.
I didn't think an "exit tax" was legal within the USA, but then Kommiefornia is a "special case". Gotta tax all the middle-class leaving to pay for the illegals, I guess…..
What a great tale from the hood! I used to deal with that on the DC side of Maryland and Philly, so it brought back memories. But I don't miss it, takes about 10 minutes to get the rig registered. Different story in DFW of course.
Sounds almost as fun as ER WAITING ROOM, the Live Show! Here we have the hoodies come flocking in on hot days to suck up the air conditioning and bringing their takeout chicken. The freak show is especially interesting if they actually have someone in the actual ER being worked on.
Thankfully, I sold my house before the tax was imposed.
I've seen that sort of thing.
They don't like crazy people.
DFW has it's own jungle environment.
Yes, it's a lot like an ER waiting room on a hot Friday or Saturday night. The big teaching hospitals are best because there are a lot of naive young medical professionals who need a dose of reality. Now they train military medics and MD at the ER's in inner city locations to give them experience with bullet trauma and slashing wounds, or having a head stove in by a meat cleaver or a bat with nails in it. Battlefield wounds are battlefield wounds.
There was a facility in the midwest where they'd shoot goats and have medics work on them. I've heard it's closed. We had one of our guys go there and he came back with the nickname, "Goatman", which stuck.
But there was cabrito at the end of the day!
One of the SWAT medics from the local PD was a graduate of that Special Forces Medic course in the Florida Panhandle. The one where they show you a pig, tell you that it's yours, and then shoot it. Nasty, but heck, better than shooting a human, maybe. And as Flugelman said, yes, there was a pork roast at graduation.
After the powers-that-be shut down the pig-shoot portion, he was offered a week's 'tour' of one of Chicago's finest ERs. He declined when he found out they wouldn't let him carry. Smart man.
Congress hyperinflating the dollar to pretend to cover budgets will prevent the middle class from paying to enable that misbehavior. Then I wonder what these people will do for a living.
Another spot to have your eyes opened is a court room. It's been 30 years since I sat on a big case in downtown LA and the caste of characters was impressive. You have to remember that they are all on their best behavior; they were the top of their game. I don't remember if we were cautioned not to laugh out loud.
The Navy school was in Missouri. I didn't know that there was one in FL.
What they've always done.
In LA there is always the dramatic sense that they draw these characters from Central Casting. But frankly, Hollywood isn't that creative…which may be a topic that pops up on tomorrow's blog.
An Air Force school. At Eglin.
DAMNNNNN … sounds like when I worked in Compton.
Comments are closed.