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In the middle of talking to my mother tonight, the power went out. Seconds before, I’d been checking my Facebook account, watching television and heating up the curling iron all while talking on the phone. Then suddenly, I was unable to continue doing anything.
So, I called my mother back on my cell phone to tell her what had happened and quickly went to the window to see if I was the only one without power. As I looked out, I could see that everyone in my building and on my side of the street were without power; yet across the street people weren’t left in the dark. I started growing antsy and jealous of the people across the street.
I just couldn’t figure out what to do with myself, I told my mother. I couldn’t go to sleep yet because I wasn’t quite tired and I’m used to falling asleep with the television or radio on. I called the electric company, and after typing in a bunch of numbers and repeating various commands to the automated system, I was told that there was a problem with the underground line and that I wouldn’t get power again until about 3 a.m.
Upon hearing that, I called my mother back and whined about being bored and asked her to talk to me and entertain me (I’m such a brat sometimes). As my mom and I talked, we discussed how dependent we are sometimes on things like electricity and how too often such modern-day conveniences dull our creativity. I confessed that if I wasn’t all alone, I wouldn’t be so bored. And that made us start talking about how such situations force people to talk to each other.
It all reminded me of a short story, “A Temporary Matter,” found in Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies. It’s one of my favorite stories from one of my favorite authors. In the story a couple gets a notice saying that their electricity will be shut off for an hour for five days. During these days, they are forced to take time out from their busy lives and get to know each other better. It’s amazing what they find out about each other. And it’s so amazing to me how greatly crafted this story is.
Then, when I finally became comfortable with the lights being out, the power came back on. It came on a lot earlier than the system had predicted. And my night went back to being no different than any other.
After spending two afternoons at the DMV two weeks ago, I am one of Virginia’s newest drivers. (Well, I’m sure there have been quite a few people who’ve gotten their drivers licenses since I got my, but humor me.)
Most people dread spending any time at the DMV. Perhaps, that partially explains why I waited so long to get my new license. I’d been using on my Illinois license and car registration for as long as I could. But then my registration expired and I wanted to be sure to be registered to vote. So, alas, I did my time at the DMV.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be—granted I did spend rough two hours there on each visit. But the people watching was stellar!
On the first trip, I encountered an adorable elderly couple. Belief it or not, they were on a date! Yes, the woman was there to get her license and her boyfriend was along to keep her company. How sweet was that!
As I listened to their conversation—I know that sounds intrusive, but they were across the room from me and I could still hear their conversation—I found out that they were actually at the beginning of their relationship. They were still asking each other the kind of questions you’re still asking in the first weeks. (Or maybe they were both senile, and they’d forgotten all of the answers.) It was so cute.
Then on the second trip, I entertained myself by watching a little boy, who had to be no older than three, in a wife beater with his mother in an itsy bitsy pair of shorts and high heels. What else amazed me was that the little boy had on more bling than his mother—earrings and chains galore.
And then, surprise, I had to make a third trip to the DMV last week. On my first trip, I got my new license but the woman neglected to give me paperwork for registering my car. Then on the second trip, I got my car registered, but found out they had not properly registered me to vote. The last trip came after I’d gotten a sticker on my car window saying my car would be towed if it wasn’t inspected. But no one had given me any information on where and how to get my car inspected.
So, finally, everything is squared away and I hope never to return to the Virginia DMV.
