Helloooooo Chicago!I'm happy to report that dating prospects in the Windy City look good...VERY good. In fact, I was asked out less than 48 hours after moving to town. And, it happened in the cutest way. What more can a girl ask for?
Like any good law-abiding citizen, I headed to the DMV immediately after settling into my new apartment (ok, admittedly, I may have learned the hard way that it's far easier to deal with this stuff on the front end than to fix it later, but that's not the point).
And, like anyone that has a driver's license, I dreaded the visit to this office. In an attempt to limit the amount of time devoted to the less-than-pleasant experience, I hopped on the bus with my newly purchased CTA pass before 8am.
Unfortunately, it was raining. A lot. And I got lost. Thus, I spent twenty minutes wandering around downtown looking for the right building, well aware that my chances for a good driver's license picture were vanishing with every wrong turn.
Anyway, I eventually arrived at the DMV, bedraggled, but determined. I had done my research and had every document I could possibly need - and then some - to prove my new residency in Illinois. There was just one thing the multiple state, city and DMV websites failed to mention - they don't take Visa! Discover, Mastercard, Amex and check - all a-ok. But Visa, the most widely recognized credit card in the world, known for being accepted globally, is NOT a valid form of payment in th eyes of Chicago driving authorities.
Out I went back into the rain to track down two different ATMs before I could compile the necessary cash for the day's expensive transactions (seriously, $200 to transfer the title of my car!).
Finally, finally, I had everything I needed and all I had to do was wait for the office to open. Luckily, I was second in line. Thinking it might be a good idea to silence my cell phone to prevent any untimely interruptions, I pulled out my new Nokia and began to fiddle with it. Except, I could not for the life of me figure out how to put it on vibrate, or worse, turn it off. At this point, I turned to the guy next to me and laughingly explained my problem. With a grin, he was kind enough to help me out (I knew I had missed Midwesterners for a reason).
As we followed each other from station to station within the office, filling out the required paperwork, I eyed him up and down. My age, blond hair, runner's build, 5'11"ish and definitely cute.
Hmmm....this has possibilities, I thought. Granted, he was there to register his new moped, but since I didn't know anyone else in the city yet, it wasn't like I really had a ton of people knocking down my door to hang out.
And then it happened. In true Jerry Springer-style, proving perhaps every stereotype about government employees, the DMV erupted into a legitimate cat fight. Two of the clerks, at windows across the room from each other, began to scream back and forth about how neither knew how to do her job - and the rest of the employees took it in stride as though it was a regular occurrence!
While entertaining, this ridiculous situation also afforded me the opportunity to chat with DMV-boy. Turns out, he went to a neighboring high school in Minnesota! With great happiness, I concluded my business, but sadly turned to leave. I started to wave good bye, while wondering if I should ask him to get a cup of coffee, when he read my mind and asked ME if I wanted to go out sometime. The Chicago dating stars had aligned!
Even better, as he was getting my number, it was his turn in line, and he told the DMV clerk "Just a minute." The shock reverbrated around the room - someone was telling a state employee, a person who had the power to make his life miserable, just a minute?
"I'm trying to get a date here!" he said loudly.
Sigh. If this works out, it's going to be an adorable story for the grandkids.
