Since I was needing to leave early, I thought this would be a great opportunity to get my tags renewed. My first stop was the courthouse to pay taxes. Fortunately for me, I was given a tax waiver because I haven't lived in Missouri long enough yet to owe taxes for the previous year.
Next stop was Walmart to get my state inspection; unfortunately, the mechanic who was licensed to give inspections wasn't there, so I went to Jiffy Lube instead. After sitting in the waiting room for half an hour, the mechanic gives me a slip saying my car failed to pass inspection.
I was kind of concerned, so I drove straight to a mechanic and had them look at my car. He said that the problem with my car was so minimal that he was shocked that the people at Jiffy Lube failed it. He told me to go talk to the Highway Patrol, and that they would take care of this for me. So I went to the Highway Patrol and the inspection officer passed my car. I went back to Jiffy Lube to submit the note saying my car passed, and they gave me my new sticker.
I went to the DMV. The lines were fairly reasonable and I got to the counter in under 10 minutes. The clerk told me that my current tags weren't under my name, so she had to give me new ones. (The clerk at the next counter over was the person who had helped me the last time I was at the DMV, and I was quite suspicious that she had screwed something up, so I guess I was right!)
It was about 4 o'clock when I was done at the DMV and I needed to pick up Lindsay from work at 4:30. Unfortunately, the DMV is only a few minutes away from work, so I had half an hour to kill. I decided to go to Sonic and get some drinks for Lindsay and I.
I was nearly finished at Sonic when I heard a commotion at the picnic tables in the front of the store. A young white man and black man were sitting together, and the Sonic manager had kicked them off the premises because they had open containers of alcohol. The black man made a big scene, especially when he realized the Sonic staff were calling the police. He started shouting obscenities, but hurried off the property. A nice middle-aged lady approached the raging man and told him that he forgot his backpack. The white man was very grateful to have not forgotten his bag, but the black man continued shouting obscenities; even some directed towards the lady.
My drinks were delivered by the manager who asked these men to leave. As he handed me my drinks and counted out my $0.98 change, he looks at me and said, "Black people are crazy, huh?" I kind of smiled and nodded, but on the inside I was shocked. I had never met a racist before, and I had no idea phrases like "Black people are crazy, huh?" were ever said (except on TV, of course).
Fortunately, the rest of my day went smoothly. That was the craziest three hours I've had in a long time!
