06 July 2016
Story #822
R. Linda:
Well, the day has come, me sainted Mam changed her name back to her maiden name, which means she had to go to the DMV for a photo license. She was disappointed about that because she liked the picture she had, but with the name change, not only do you have to have your picture retaken, you also have to take the eye exam.
Wednesday night, I was subjected to complaining about photos and exams. I was then told to wait an hour while she fixed her hair and put on fresh makeup. Then, I sat through a fashion show of blouses, jumpers (sweaters), and even one dress suit she liked and looked very familiar in. Oi!
"Soo, Gabriel, should I jus wear da red joompah (jumper = sweater) cus' it haz da turtle nick (neck) ta covah (cover) me troat (throat)."
"Mam," says I, "dat joompah be too hot, and ye don't need to covah yer troat."
"Ooo-key (ok), if yer tinks (thinks) soo (so)." And off she went to change into another costume. I tell ya.
"I doan't (don't) luck (look) like I did when I wuz (was) tertay (thirty)." She announced, coming into the room dressed like Jackie Kennedy going to Dallas. She wore a pink suit with dark blue trim that I had seen in hundreds of photos. All she needed was the pillbox hat and gloves.
"'Err, were (where) did ye git (get) dat suit from?" I asked, startled.
"Oh, from da domedged (damaged) goos (goods) store in dat town next dour (door)." She stood brushing the material down.
"Uh, noo (no)," I said, "dat won (won't) doo (do)." I shook me head as she sighed and left again. I didn't want to know about the "damaged goods" store. It couldn't be THAT suit. Isn't that at the Smithsonian or some closet out of sight? No blood stains did I see, so why did she have THAT? I didn't want to go there.
She returned wearing a dark skirt with a simple aubergine blouse, which made her blond hair shine.
"Dats (that's) more like it," I said. "Off ya pop." I went back to me newspaper.
"Let me give ye a hoag (hug). Tonks (thanks) fer (for) yer 'elp (help)." She said, leaning over and bear-hugging me.
"Glad ta be a-service." I smiled as she left, still wondering about that pink suit.
The next day, I went with her to the DMV. She looked lovely: the aubergine blouse, coiffed hair, and makeup. We had the necessary paperwork in hand and only had one person ahead. This was a big bruiser of a man. He had a cut-off at the arms Harley Davidson sweatshirt that showed his bulging muscles and tattoos that ran the gamut from sexy nude reclining women to fiery skulls and strange designs.
"Okay, Harlan, just stand ova thaugh sos I kin take yer picjah," the woman behind the counter said in her New England accent to the biker. "Now look inta tha camera." He did, she snapped, we all waited, and the result appeared on the screen. It wasn't good. Harlan looked a bit demonic. He smiled at the last moment when he didn't mean to, and there, for all to see, were his upper teeth missing. He had Jack Nicholson eyebrows and a shaved head. It wasn't a good likeness.
"That makes me look like someone ya don't wanna meet in a dark alley." He protested.
"Aw, get ova yourself." The DMV lady said. "Be just a minute, and you'll be set ta go."
"Mildred, con't we do a retake?" He asked.
"No, we con't, no con do, ya have a line behind ya." She said, getting the temporary paper license and handing it to him.
He looked behind him, and the line was just Mam and meself. We looked behind us as well, and no, no one there. He looked back at Mildred. She shook her head no, her eyes narrowed. He looked forlorn for such a big man as he held the license in his meaty fingers and looked at it. He shrugged and left without another word.
"NEXT!" Mildred called like we were at the other end of the room. Geez!
We handed over Mam's papers, and there was a chat about Ireland and Mildred's hubby being of Irish heritage, which led Mam to ask if she could have her old picture on the new license, but Mildred wouldn't budge on that. An eye exam came, and Mam put on her reading glasses.
"Oh no, no. No readin' glasses." Mildred said.
"Boot (but) I kin (can) see far awey (away) but need me specs fer cloos (close) oop (up). See here," Mam said and read off a poster on the far back wall like it was right in front of her. I couldn't read that wall, so I was rather taken aback but said notta word. Then she read the letters in the viewer, reading glasses ON, and Mildred looked perplexed, as if this had never happened before.
"O...K," Mildred said, looking askance at Mam. Then, she shrugged and told her to stand in front of the camera. This she did, and she didn't hear Mildred say cheese because she was talking to me as the camera clicked. She thought the picture was taken, but wasn't sure. She looked at me, and it was me turn to shrug and nod that yes, indeed, her photo was taken.
Mildred clicked on her keyboard, and on the big screen was a photo of Mam. Her mouth opened in an O, and her lips a bit crooked in a strange palsy way, which had been the beginning of a laugh. It was bloody funny. I started chuckling and got a dirty look for me trouble.
"Oh noo, noo, dat will nevah doo." She said to Mildred, shaking her head, that she was dissatisfied. Well, think of it: she went to all that trouble the night before, and then this morning, she got up extra early to get herself "perfect."
"Fraid it hasta," Mildred said. "No, do ova. Like I said to Big Harlan, you get what ya get. Gotta move along theah, got otha customers." And she turned around to get the temporary paper license.
Mam and I glanced behind us, but there was no line. Mam looked like she was about to cry, which is something she never does, but it was her winding up to a string of Irish cuss words that flew over the counter right at Mildred's back. Mildred, God bless her, didn't understand a word of it, but she looked at first discontented, then amused as she handed me the paper. I half dragged Mam out the door, keeping the offending license close to me chest where she couldn't see it.
Once in the Saturn, she grabbed it and wrinkled her nose at it.
"Woodya, luck at dis! Doan't even luck like me. I sade (said) take it ovah, but dat hag in dere only gives a budy (body) da forced (first) one an' dat be dat! How mooch (much) ye wanna bet me pic appears in AARP magazine? I luck OLD!"
Oi! I drove home trying to say encouraging things like she could change her name again and go for another picture at another DMV. I couldn't soothe her anger, so I stopped at a General Store on the way home with an international biscuit section and bought her a box of Peek Frean Pearls and, for me, Orange Pims.
I knew by Mildred's demeanour that there were no second chances, and me spouting off would not have helped. I wanted to post the picture, but Mam wouldn't let me. She mumbled her offence all yesterday and into today. Of course, I didn't help much by saying (at looking at it) that Halloween came early and it's time for a lip plumping. Yeah-ah, not nice of me, but she's taking this too far. I even told her Harlan's was way worse than hers, but she said, "Iffin' dats to make me feel bettah (better) hav' another tink on dat sonny buy (boy)!"
SIGH
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Well, the day has come, me sainted Mam changed her name back to her maiden name, which means she had to go to the DMV for a photo license. She was disappointed about that because she liked the picture she had, but with the name change, not only do you have to have your picture retaken, you also have to take the eye exam.
Wednesday night, I was subjected to complaining about photos and exams. I was then told to wait an hour while she fixed her hair and put on fresh makeup. Then, I sat through a fashion show of blouses, jumpers (sweaters), and even one dress suit she liked and looked very familiar in. Oi!
"Soo, Gabriel, should I jus wear da red joompah (jumper = sweater) cus' it haz da turtle nick (neck) ta covah (cover) me troat (throat)."
"Mam," says I, "dat joompah be too hot, and ye don't need to covah yer troat."
"Ooo-key (ok), if yer tinks (thinks) soo (so)." And off she went to change into another costume. I tell ya.
"I doan't (don't) luck (look) like I did when I wuz (was) tertay (thirty)." She announced, coming into the room dressed like Jackie Kennedy going to Dallas. She wore a pink suit with dark blue trim that I had seen in hundreds of photos. All she needed was the pillbox hat and gloves.
"'Err, were (where) did ye git (get) dat suit from?" I asked, startled.
"Oh, from da domedged (damaged) goos (goods) store in dat town next dour (door)." She stood brushing the material down.
"Uh, noo (no)," I said, "dat won (won't) doo (do)." I shook me head as she sighed and left again. I didn't want to know about the "damaged goods" store. It couldn't be THAT suit. Isn't that at the Smithsonian or some closet out of sight? No blood stains did I see, so why did she have THAT? I didn't want to go there.
She returned wearing a dark skirt with a simple aubergine blouse, which made her blond hair shine.
"Dats (that's) more like it," I said. "Off ya pop." I went back to me newspaper.
"Let me give ye a hoag (hug). Tonks (thanks) fer (for) yer 'elp (help)." She said, leaning over and bear-hugging me.
"Glad ta be a-service." I smiled as she left, still wondering about that pink suit.
The next day, I went with her to the DMV. She looked lovely: the aubergine blouse, coiffed hair, and makeup. We had the necessary paperwork in hand and only had one person ahead. This was a big bruiser of a man. He had a cut-off at the arms Harley Davidson sweatshirt that showed his bulging muscles and tattoos that ran the gamut from sexy nude reclining women to fiery skulls and strange designs.
"Okay, Harlan, just stand ova thaugh sos I kin take yer picjah," the woman behind the counter said in her New England accent to the biker. "Now look inta tha camera." He did, she snapped, we all waited, and the result appeared on the screen. It wasn't good. Harlan looked a bit demonic. He smiled at the last moment when he didn't mean to, and there, for all to see, were his upper teeth missing. He had Jack Nicholson eyebrows and a shaved head. It wasn't a good likeness.
"That makes me look like someone ya don't wanna meet in a dark alley." He protested.
"Aw, get ova yourself." The DMV lady said. "Be just a minute, and you'll be set ta go."
"Mildred, con't we do a retake?" He asked.
"No, we con't, no con do, ya have a line behind ya." She said, getting the temporary paper license and handing it to him.
He looked behind him, and the line was just Mam and meself. We looked behind us as well, and no, no one there. He looked back at Mildred. She shook her head no, her eyes narrowed. He looked forlorn for such a big man as he held the license in his meaty fingers and looked at it. He shrugged and left without another word.
"NEXT!" Mildred called like we were at the other end of the room. Geez!
We handed over Mam's papers, and there was a chat about Ireland and Mildred's hubby being of Irish heritage, which led Mam to ask if she could have her old picture on the new license, but Mildred wouldn't budge on that. An eye exam came, and Mam put on her reading glasses.
"Oh no, no. No readin' glasses." Mildred said.
"Boot (but) I kin (can) see far awey (away) but need me specs fer cloos (close) oop (up). See here," Mam said and read off a poster on the far back wall like it was right in front of her. I couldn't read that wall, so I was rather taken aback but said notta word. Then she read the letters in the viewer, reading glasses ON, and Mildred looked perplexed, as if this had never happened before.
"O...K," Mildred said, looking askance at Mam. Then, she shrugged and told her to stand in front of the camera. This she did, and she didn't hear Mildred say cheese because she was talking to me as the camera clicked. She thought the picture was taken, but wasn't sure. She looked at me, and it was me turn to shrug and nod that yes, indeed, her photo was taken.
Mildred clicked on her keyboard, and on the big screen was a photo of Mam. Her mouth opened in an O, and her lips a bit crooked in a strange palsy way, which had been the beginning of a laugh. It was bloody funny. I started chuckling and got a dirty look for me trouble.
"Oh noo, noo, dat will nevah doo." She said to Mildred, shaking her head, that she was dissatisfied. Well, think of it: she went to all that trouble the night before, and then this morning, she got up extra early to get herself "perfect."
"Fraid it hasta," Mildred said. "No, do ova. Like I said to Big Harlan, you get what ya get. Gotta move along theah, got otha customers." And she turned around to get the temporary paper license.
Mam and I glanced behind us, but there was no line. Mam looked like she was about to cry, which is something she never does, but it was her winding up to a string of Irish cuss words that flew over the counter right at Mildred's back. Mildred, God bless her, didn't understand a word of it, but she looked at first discontented, then amused as she handed me the paper. I half dragged Mam out the door, keeping the offending license close to me chest where she couldn't see it.
Once in the Saturn, she grabbed it and wrinkled her nose at it.
"Woodya, luck at dis! Doan't even luck like me. I sade (said) take it ovah, but dat hag in dere only gives a budy (body) da forced (first) one an' dat be dat! How mooch (much) ye wanna bet me pic appears in AARP magazine? I luck OLD!"
Oi! I drove home trying to say encouraging things like she could change her name again and go for another picture at another DMV. I couldn't soothe her anger, so I stopped at a General Store on the way home with an international biscuit section and bought her a box of Peek Frean Pearls and, for me, Orange Pims.
 |
| Belgium chocolate with a layer of orange jelly on a biscuit. YUM |
I knew by Mildred's demeanour that there were no second chances, and me spouting off would not have helped. I wanted to post the picture, but Mam wouldn't let me. She mumbled her offence all yesterday and into today. Of course, I didn't help much by saying (at looking at it) that Halloween came early and it's time for a lip plumping. Yeah-ah, not nice of me, but she's taking this too far. I even told her Harlan's was way worse than hers, but she said, "Iffin' dats to make me feel bettah (better) hav' another tink on dat sonny buy (boy)!"
SIGH
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
ROFLMAO I HATE DMV pictures ! Mine always look like mug shots. I dont wear makeup so there's no hiding the real me. She should be happy that she doesn't have to wear it on a chain for the world to see. I haven't seen agood picture yet, except yours maybe
ReplyDeleteAw you are too kind LMAO
DeleteI haven't seen Peek Freans over here. Pims I have not to get confused with the liquor. I like the raspberry ones. All aside, your poor mam to go to all that trouble and then not get a do over.
ReplyDeleteyour mom must be beside herself. awful situation but you know her reaction is funny. at least i got a laugh out of it. but i feel for her i really do.
ReplyDeleteI thought that was a Jaffa cake for a minute. Are they similar? As to your Mam that Mildred should have taken another shot especially knowing she wasn't happy with it and after the curse words lol
ReplyDeleteYes only Jaffa cakes don't have Belgium chocolate.
ReplyDeleteAh well in that case, I would rather go with yours. Sounds and looks delish!
ReplyDelete