Everybody says that if you want to see the ugliest people on earth, go to the Department of Motor Vehicles. I know; I work there. Not because I am ugly, but because I feel pretty compared with my coworkers. Like Myra, for instance, the woman who I work with in licensing. She has a mole on her nose that birthed another mole. Myra and her mole-mole stay behind the counter, out of sight; I take the pictures. Sometimes I pretend I’m working at a prison, taking mug shots. I silently assign each person a crime as they square up in front of the blue screen. Shoplifting. Lack of ambition. Poor hygiene.
Then Darrell Sabathia showed up for a replacement license.
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