Concessions and Confetti? Or Confessions and Collections? Stealing Home.

Written in response to: Set your story inside a character’s mind, literally.... view prompt

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Christian Kids Teens & Young Adult

Rules of the Road.


Driving on the left with this kind of traffic was not what I thought it would be, not what I bargained for.


A picture pops into my mind as I nervously await to hear my number called. This is not the first time I have been in this particular kind of building, but it feels akin to having one’s teeth pulled without Novocain.


Maybe that has been the plan all along…..

I wonder how it became so easy to avoid some traffic and at the same time run smack dab into a traffic jam of a gargantuan-parking lot on a supposedly fast moving cement covered path called a highway. Wondering at the same time how in the world this fast moving road was defined as an “expressway” or a “freeway”. I get the freeway one, but I am sitting in gridlock on this “expressway” one.


As my heart begins to palpate, I am reminded “up top” in the swirls of my cranium that I have indeed been here before. Why am I so nervous now? You did the work. You put in the hours. You studied the rules of the road. . With the utmost respect to a Grandmother, I have always driven like one, so good there. You made yourself up for the ever popular “license picture” so as to not come across like an ex-con.


And yet, why do I feel like I AM one? Life is a highway I wanna ride it all night long. ‘Cept. I don’t. Because quite often those with a lot to hide come on out at night. In the honor of the upcoming Halloween and All Saints holidays, at night is when it is most difficult to see what is out there. This may be an opportune time when others think this and come out. I close my eyes, not in disapproval, but in fear of what I see. Oops, I open them and I am here of there. Where?


The DMV.


Let’s hope I do not receive another October Surprise. Yuck. My mind goes further into my cranium and now. I do not even feel my heart beating. I think I just died. Of fear.


Nope. Wait. There it is. I feel it. My pulse. I feel like barfing as well. But I will simply use deep breaths, close my eyes, and when I open them me, myself and I will not be here, not be sitting at the DMV bargaining for my next dose of freedom.


Or Novocain.


But I am here. I must persevere. So. I decide to get serious. I will read. Before I do. I check the time. I glance up at the numbers being called, check which counter I am to report to, look down to see if I have all my papers. And of course payment (separate checks) to the office of the DMV—The department of Motor Vehicles—you know—for my “Glamour Shot” at the end of this glorious day within this building’s walls. And my privilege to drive the highways, by ways, freeways and expressways of this land.


Check. Check. Check. Check(s).


Why does my mind go deeper into my cranium again visioning myself on a beautiful bicycle, with a basket, banana handle bars, and strings of confetti like paper hanging on the wheels? My expression of happiness is evident and peaceful and then a buzzing wakes me up.


Too late. Enjoy the time in this building.


The buZzing sound was to indicate to us grovelers waiting for our fate to know that the DMV workers were going on their lunch break.


My stomach begins to growl. I forgot my snack. Is THIS my October Surprise—being unaware of the lunch plans of the DMV workers and their scheduled lunch. The joke is on me. I chew some gum instead.


I decide I will study history. Open my history book and coincidentally come across the term “October Surprise” I think to myself, this is some magical building if this phrase pops up, just when I am wishing or not wishing (I am unsure at this point with all the heart racing and stomach turning) whether being here is good, bad, indifferent or “worth” the trouble. Am I secretly hoping for a “surprise” to move up in the queue. At this point. Who knows. I look down at my history…..book.


‘In mid-October 1840, shortly before the U.S. presidential election, federal prosecutors announced plans to charge top Whig Party officials, with “most stupendous and atrocious fraud” for paying Pennsylvanians to cross state lines and vote for Whig candidates in New York during the 1838 elections. (wk)


In 1844, an abolitionist newspaper published an article, purportedly based on a book titled “Roorbacks Tour through the Southern and Western States” in the Year 1836, implying that James K. Polk had his slaves branded (For some decades afterward, the practice now known as “October Surprise” was called “roorbacking” or roorbaching”. (Wk)


On October 20, 1880 shortly before the 1880 presidential election a forged letter was published purportedly written by James A. Garfield voicing support for Chinese Immigration to the U.S. At the time most Americans opposed Chinese immigration to the U.S. and both Presidential Candidates were in favor of immigration restrictions.(wk)


Restrictions. Not Exclusions. And yet. Here we all are, running for our

lives instead of safely operating a motor vehicle, aka driving.

I digress.

My mind went back in my safe place within my cranium and I thought, is THIS when the madness began? The bargaining, the chipping, the skipping? I awake.


Reading further. “In the week leading up to the 1884 presidential election, Republicans nominee James Blaine attended a meeting in which Presbyterian preacher Samuel Burchard claimed the democrats were the Party of “”Rum, Romanism and Rebellion.”(wk)


I could use some rum right now. Novocain. May be even a nut would do. No, not the kind I feel like. The one I could munch and crunch on. As I came too, pulling my thoughts and myself out of my cranium, I looked up to discover the DMV lunch break was only ten minutes into commencement. Continually, I madly chewed my gum. Said a quiet and quick prayer. And


Checked my pulse. You know to make sure I was still “with it.”


For some reason, I decided to review the DUI and DWI sections of the Rules of the Road. Those acronyms stand for Driving Under the Influence and Driving While Intoxicated. Suddenly this costly personal and monetary price of driving on the freeways and expressways and highways of this land was starting to become a little more clear, concise, coherent and sobering.


I shifted my gears. Too much heart palpations going on inside in addition to butterfly flutters. The waiting is the hardest part. Soooooo. In the interest of covering all bases. A single, a double, a triple, or perhaps even nine of them. Finessing with a hook slide or a mean curve.


In the spirit of an October Surprise.


Knowing the rules of the game. The rules of the road, whether it pays off or not. Is indeed sobering. And that is good for any one operating a motor vehicle. Or not operating a motor vehicle and painfully running for their lives. In pain. In fear. In pain and fear. Suddenly, I felt a weird fondness for the majestic building. Except.


I wondered aloud (talking to oneself in public is never recommended) if they practiced what they preached. Here at the hallowed halls of the DMV., If they actually followed through, drove by or drive by and with the Rules of the Road they wrote and published. Were the rules “followed l. Somewere, out of nowhere I began to feel queasy again. One could say, almost an out of body experience Light-headed. Dizzying.


Intuition is a feeling not to ignore. I gulped some air, bit down on my gum and struggled to focus on something positive. I am here among friends at the DMV. Right? What could possible go, wrong?


I brought myself back down to reality and decided to make some confetti to—you know—for when I, just in case I get/have a license and now can party. I am so gonna throw up some confetti as I carry my glamour shot and my brand new freedom to move about card out the door…At the same time contemplating this ...How do I go about not be coerced to “pay up” for something I did not participate in. You know, the DUI or the DWI party… At the home. On the way home from home. While stealing home?


Wait, I studied my new glamour shot and accompanying lines of my personal information. I read my age—Hey, I am not even legal, old enough to party. Thank heavens for small surprises. Now. Let’s try to abide not imbibe. While in fear or in pain. And pay off will not be the only payoff of this particular road less traveled. It will be:


Sobering. Safe. With Liberty and Justice for all! All this fun for being under 21.








October 07, 2022 16:42

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