Vanity hit smack in the face
A couple of days ago, I finally went to get my New Mexico Driver's License.
You'd think that as soon as we arrived in New Mexico, I would have sprinted to the DMV/MVD to stake my residential claim. But no, vanity was holding me back. I believed after a few months of walking all over Albuquerque, I would lose tons of weight, thus feeling better about getting that mugshot which will stay with me for at least four years.
Yet today, my clothes still seem to fit the same, and I continue to struggle to get into pants I was able to wear when Mr F and I embarked on our driving adventure January 2009. Clearly, I haven't been walking enough, and continue to indulge in those lovely nasty little treats.
So off to the MVD I went. Vanity had to be put aside. Time was awasting.
After waiting an hour and a half my turn arrived, and I got to work with a nice woman behind the counter. We went through the whole process, when she had to ask these basic questions:
Nice woman behind the counter: "How tall are you?"
Me: "Five two."
Nice woman: "How much do you weigh?"
Me: "125 pounds."
Nice woman: "What color are your eyes?"
Me: "Brown."
Nice woman: "What color is your hair?"
Me: "Brown."
Nice woman: "You are five two and weigh 125 pounds."
Me: "Yes."
The nice woman, who is clearly obese, looks at me incredulously, yet moves on with the process with slightly less patience.
I think about my weight, because I clearly didn't when asked the question. Just threw out a pat answer from years ago. How much do I weigh? It's been far more than a year since I've stepped on a scale. I have no idea.
Me: "Excuse me. It's been a long time since I've stepped on a scale, so I have no idea how much I weigh. Can we revise my answer?"
Nice woman: "How much do you think you weigh?"
Me: "I don't know. About 135 pounds?"
Nice woman: "You are five two and weigh 135 pounds."
Me: "I believe so."
The nice lady raises one eyebrow and makes the change. She finishes the process, prints out the form which I sign.
Nice woman: "O.K., you're all set."
Me: "Wait. We were going to go over registering our car next."
Nice woman: "You can go to one of these locations to get your car registered," and she hands me a small list of MVD locations.
Me: "O.K. Thank you for your help. Bye."
I walk away, and look at the list of locations. The location I'm at is the second place listed.
This woman clearly had had enough of me ... and my fantasy weight. In hindsight, I wish I had asked her what she thought I might weigh. We could have come up with a compromise. ;-)
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