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Both my husband, my daughter and I witnessed this from different perspectives. Hubby was waiting in the parking lot and I accompanied my daughter into the RMV (the Registry of Motor Vehicles) so that she could get a title transfer done.
What Hubby saw:
After Daughter and I went into the RMV, a tow truck with a car on the back drove up the door of the RMV and a man jumped out of the passenger side. He yelled at the driver to wait while he ran inside. The driver appeared to agree and then pulled out of the parking lot at top speed as soon as the passenger was clear of the vehicle. The passenger (we'll just call him Entitled Jerk, for indeed, it was he) looked after the truck dumbfounded for a second then barged in front of a man on crutches to get to the Registry door. Not only that, he let the door slam in the guy's face. The guy on crutches had to stop and lean on them in order to open the door.
What daughter saw:
I was talking to the receptionist and getting the required forms to fill out, while daughter witnessed what Entitled Jerk did to the guy on crutces from the inside. She went over and held open the second set of doors for the guy on crutches. She's a nice kid. She also saw Entitled Jerk huffing and puffing because he had to wait behind me at the receptionist's counter.
At this point I wasn't aware that any of this had taken place. I brought the forms over to the table to fill them out. Once that was done, we were supposed to go back to the receptionist and she would give us a number and we would wait for our number to be called. (I know it sounds very convoluted, but it the system actually works very efficiently. Most of the time you are out of there in 15 minutes or less.) The table only had so much room. Daughter and I were filling our our forms along with some other folks, soon to be joined by Entitled Jerk, who was taking up much more space than necessary. When Guy-On-Crutches got the table, Daughter noticed that Entitled Jerk wasn't making room for Guy-on-Crutches, even though he easily could. She nudged me over a bit to make room for Guy-on-Crutches, but Entitled Jerk's jerkitude still hadn't made it onto my radar. That was going to change:
What I saw:
As luck would have it, Entitled Jerk finished his forms before we did, so he went to get his number before we did. We finally finished our forms and got our number. We hardly sat down when our number was called. The automated annoucement told us to go to window 12, which was one of four windows serving registration/title customers. So we go to Window 12 and it just happened that the clerk at window 12 had just finished serving Entitled Jerk. That was when I noticed him, because he took two steps to the side and stayed there trying to keep asking questions of Clerk 12 while we did my daughter's transaction.
This is what I gathered from the several interruptions of our transaction:
o He had a sizeable number of speeding tickets
o He hadn't paid them
o The officer who pulled him over for speeding today impounded his car
o He didn't feel he should have to pay them because he was in the military
One line he uttered was too priceless not to remember:
"Well you gotta tell the cops to stop pulling me over all the time!"
After a point, Clerk 12 just began to ignore him. As a matter of fact we had the feeling that she had pushed the magic button to summon a new customer to her window in the vain hope that this guy would get the hint and go away.
So we continued our transaction with Entitled Jerk standing two feet from us acting like one of Blasphemy's impatient customers. You know, huffing, sighing, tapping his foot, muttering, clearing his throat...I swear to Gord he was doing all of the above.
That's when he got onto my radar and that's when I got passive-agressive mean.
I looked at Entitled Jerk, then back at Clerk 12, "Could you repeat that please. I'm not sure I understood."
Clerk 12 looked a bit resigned as she repeated the information she had given me.
"Thank you," I said.
Clerk 12 then asked my daughter for her license.
My daughter replied, "I only have a learners' permit..."
"And we don't have it with us. I'm sorry." I finished for her, while tilting my head toward the hovering Entitled Jerk.
Daughter opened her mouth for a moment, then she got it.
"I'm going to have to look that up on computer," said Clerk 12. "It will take a few moments." She still seemed annoyed.
"That will be fine. We aren't in a hurry," I replied warmly. I made sure to flash a nice big smile at Entitled Jerk, then turned back to Clerk 12 with the same smile. Clerk 12 caught on and smiled back.
It took her longer than usual to look up my daughter's learner's permit. Oh, dear.
After a little bit more time, we finished the transaction and it came time to pay the fees.
Clerk 12 asked for seventy-five dollars. I wasn't sure why it was so high and asked her to break it down.
Entitled Jerk started dancing with impatience. Literally. He looked like a little kid who needed to pee RIGHT NOW.
Clerk 12 broke it down for me. Ah, yes. I had forgotten about a non-blood relative gift transfer fee.
I offered to pay in cash.
Entitled Jerk seemed to brighten up. He started getting ready to budge in as soon as I left the window.
However, when I counted my money (most of it was in ones) I found that I had only 60 dollars.
"I'm sorry. I guess I'll have to pay by check," I said. For the first time in her life, I think Clerk 12 found this amusing.
Entitled Jerk, however, was not amused. Especially not when I took my sweet time calculating my balance (can't be writitng a rubber check to the RMV, you know? gotta be sure I have enough in there), filling out the register, calculating the balance again, slooooowly writing out the check, handing it over, having it handed back because I forgot to write something in the memo (oops!), filling out the info in the memo and handing it back.
"OK. You're all set. We'll mail your title to you. You can expect it in 6-8 weeks."
"Thank you," I replied. "You have a nice day!"
"You too!"
Before I even had a chance to walk away from the window I heard the computer voice making the automated announcement, "Now serving number A. One. Oh. Two. At. Window. Twelve."
Apparently Clerk 12 had pushed the magic button again to summon another customer before Entitled Jerk could start harassing her again.
On the way out I noticed that the state trooper who guards the door was starting to move toward her as well. I think she may have pushed another magic button as well.
When we got out to the car, Hubby told us about seeing a guy get abandoned by a tow truck and almost bowling over Guy-With-Crutches. We soon realized it was Entitled Jerk and told him what happened inside the RMV.
We would have loved to stick around to see what happened next, but had to get going.
What Hubby saw:
After Daughter and I went into the RMV, a tow truck with a car on the back drove up the door of the RMV and a man jumped out of the passenger side. He yelled at the driver to wait while he ran inside. The driver appeared to agree and then pulled out of the parking lot at top speed as soon as the passenger was clear of the vehicle. The passenger (we'll just call him Entitled Jerk, for indeed, it was he) looked after the truck dumbfounded for a second then barged in front of a man on crutches to get to the Registry door. Not only that, he let the door slam in the guy's face. The guy on crutches had to stop and lean on them in order to open the door.
What daughter saw:
I was talking to the receptionist and getting the required forms to fill out, while daughter witnessed what Entitled Jerk did to the guy on crutces from the inside. She went over and held open the second set of doors for the guy on crutches. She's a nice kid. She also saw Entitled Jerk huffing and puffing because he had to wait behind me at the receptionist's counter.
At this point I wasn't aware that any of this had taken place. I brought the forms over to the table to fill them out. Once that was done, we were supposed to go back to the receptionist and she would give us a number and we would wait for our number to be called. (I know it sounds very convoluted, but it the system actually works very efficiently. Most of the time you are out of there in 15 minutes or less.) The table only had so much room. Daughter and I were filling our our forms along with some other folks, soon to be joined by Entitled Jerk, who was taking up much more space than necessary. When Guy-On-Crutches got the table, Daughter noticed that Entitled Jerk wasn't making room for Guy-on-Crutches, even though he easily could. She nudged me over a bit to make room for Guy-on-Crutches, but Entitled Jerk's jerkitude still hadn't made it onto my radar. That was going to change:
What I saw:
As luck would have it, Entitled Jerk finished his forms before we did, so he went to get his number before we did. We finally finished our forms and got our number. We hardly sat down when our number was called. The automated annoucement told us to go to window 12, which was one of four windows serving registration/title customers. So we go to Window 12 and it just happened that the clerk at window 12 had just finished serving Entitled Jerk. That was when I noticed him, because he took two steps to the side and stayed there trying to keep asking questions of Clerk 12 while we did my daughter's transaction.
This is what I gathered from the several interruptions of our transaction:
o He had a sizeable number of speeding tickets
o He hadn't paid them
o The officer who pulled him over for speeding today impounded his car
o He didn't feel he should have to pay them because he was in the military
One line he uttered was too priceless not to remember:
"Well you gotta tell the cops to stop pulling me over all the time!"
After a point, Clerk 12 just began to ignore him. As a matter of fact we had the feeling that she had pushed the magic button to summon a new customer to her window in the vain hope that this guy would get the hint and go away.
So we continued our transaction with Entitled Jerk standing two feet from us acting like one of Blasphemy's impatient customers. You know, huffing, sighing, tapping his foot, muttering, clearing his throat...I swear to Gord he was doing all of the above.
That's when he got onto my radar and that's when I got passive-agressive mean.
I looked at Entitled Jerk, then back at Clerk 12, "Could you repeat that please. I'm not sure I understood."
Clerk 12 looked a bit resigned as she repeated the information she had given me.
"Thank you," I said.
Clerk 12 then asked my daughter for her license.
My daughter replied, "I only have a learners' permit..."
"And we don't have it with us. I'm sorry." I finished for her, while tilting my head toward the hovering Entitled Jerk.
Daughter opened her mouth for a moment, then she got it.
"I'm going to have to look that up on computer," said Clerk 12. "It will take a few moments." She still seemed annoyed.
"That will be fine. We aren't in a hurry," I replied warmly. I made sure to flash a nice big smile at Entitled Jerk, then turned back to Clerk 12 with the same smile. Clerk 12 caught on and smiled back.
It took her longer than usual to look up my daughter's learner's permit. Oh, dear.
After a little bit more time, we finished the transaction and it came time to pay the fees.
Clerk 12 asked for seventy-five dollars. I wasn't sure why it was so high and asked her to break it down.
Entitled Jerk started dancing with impatience. Literally. He looked like a little kid who needed to pee RIGHT NOW.
Clerk 12 broke it down for me. Ah, yes. I had forgotten about a non-blood relative gift transfer fee.
I offered to pay in cash.
Entitled Jerk seemed to brighten up. He started getting ready to budge in as soon as I left the window.
However, when I counted my money (most of it was in ones) I found that I had only 60 dollars.
"I'm sorry. I guess I'll have to pay by check," I said. For the first time in her life, I think Clerk 12 found this amusing.
Entitled Jerk, however, was not amused. Especially not when I took my sweet time calculating my balance (can't be writitng a rubber check to the RMV, you know? gotta be sure I have enough in there), filling out the register, calculating the balance again, slooooowly writing out the check, handing it over, having it handed back because I forgot to write something in the memo (oops!), filling out the info in the memo and handing it back.
"OK. You're all set. We'll mail your title to you. You can expect it in 6-8 weeks."
"Thank you," I replied. "You have a nice day!"
"You too!"
Before I even had a chance to walk away from the window I heard the computer voice making the automated announcement, "Now serving number A. One. Oh. Two. At. Window. Twelve."
Apparently Clerk 12 had pushed the magic button again to summon another customer before Entitled Jerk could start harassing her again.
On the way out I noticed that the state trooper who guards the door was starting to move toward her as well. I think she may have pushed another magic button as well.
When we got out to the car, Hubby told us about seeing a guy get abandoned by a tow truck and almost bowling over Guy-With-Crutches. We soon realized it was Entitled Jerk and told him what happened inside the RMV.
We would have loved to stick around to see what happened next, but had to get going.
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