It was a typical day at the local motor-vehicle bureau, which was bustling with the hum of a crowd waiting to get their driver’s licenses renewed.
The line seemed to stretch endlessly, winding through the room like a sluggish snake.
I found myself stuck in this slow-moving queue, inching forward with the patience of a saint.
Nearly an hour had passed when the man ahead of me finally reached the front desk.
He received his newly minted license with a mixture of relief and anticipation.
As he inspected his photo, a frown formed on his face. He turned to the clerk and said, “I’ve been standing in line so long that I look downright grumpy in this picture.”
The clerk leaned over the counter, peering at the photo with a scrutinizing gaze.
After a moment of contemplation, he offered a comforting smile and said, “It’s perfectly fine. That’s exactly how you’re going to look when the police pull you over anyway.”