i've been thinking of samson, trying to describe him more fully. he was very dark, incredibly dark, like a kind of earthy loam. that really fertile soil that results from composting. yes, that is how dark he was. his lips were full and his teeth broad and straight. i wish i could have seen his eyes. they do tell a great deal about a person.
in samson's defense, perhaps portraying my recklessness, i was not wearing my wedding ring. i did have it cliped on a caribiner at my waist, but i don't think men are inclined to visually scan anywhere but a finger for a ring.
my husband does not wear his either, except sometimes. i got him a gold zuni inlaid ring when we married. i have a simple silver band with stones askew (kind of like me). we purchased matching rings, with stones overlaid, if you've ever seen the work of danny romero (a yaqui we met in santa fe), it is stunning. national geographic did a piece on him. anyway, i used to wear that ring all the time, but i busted it up with my carelessness. so i'm back to my simple silver band.
wedding rings are not a native tradition. they are more a european thing. so we don’t lose any sleep over whether or not the other is or isn’t wearing a ring. i have thought, i need to get my finger tattooed, then i’ll always have the “ring” on. that is probably the only way i could do it to where i always wear a wedding ring. curiously, before i was married, i had this big diamond ring my dad gave me for my sixteenth birthday. i used to wear it every day. people always thought i was married. i don’t wear that ring anymore, largely because i don’t wear anything gold.
the next person who sat down beside me was a young hispanic guy with a spike in his bottom lip. i hadn’t seen that application before. i had just seen dennis rodman on tv with two spikes coming out of his nose, on either side. so i asked the guy,
did that hurt?
he said
no.
i asked if it bothered him when he ate.
he said,
sometimes, when i’m eating something really good, i’ll bite it. but it doesn’t hurt.
so it healed up well?
yes,he said.
he told me if the piercer doesn’t put it in the right place, either too high or too low, it will disintegrate your gums. (yikes).
at the end of that little conversation, i had nothing more to say. so i sat quietly for a moment. he was wearing black converse type tennis, baggie jeans, a white button front shirt with a white t-shirt under it. he had papers in his hands and a large scrollwork type ying yang tattoo on his right forearm.
i forgot my social security card,i told him.
ahh.
do you think they’ll need it?
i don’t know. i brought these papers.
and he showed me all the papers in his hands. a birth certificate, renewed driver’s license print out. he told me he had lost his wallet on saturday.
bummer,i said (i’m pretty profound).
i have to go to the social security office next,he said.
i don’t know what they’ll need but i hope these will do. i know where it is i have to go.
i wanted to ask him where, just because i’m morbidly curious at times. but i didn’t.
do you have a picture id?
i do, but i want to keep that out of it.
which i thought was a curious answer. i told him,
i think it all depends on the mood of the person you get.
he smiled and agreed. he said,
i am afraid to come to these places.
why?
because i feel like they are going to lock me up.
i know. the authority thing. i get that way too.that point of honesty was beautiful. i wished i had more time to sit there with him and talk about fear. i told him,
just be polite.
then they finally called, 66.
i went up to the counter, you never know what to expect at those places. whether the lady would be a nickel and dime type, or gracious. i was hoping for the latter. as i said, opted not to bring my social. i had considered in the time i was waiting, leaving. i thought, well, they probably need it, so i may as well go now. although the card i got in the mail said, you only need it if there is a question.
i went up to window 7, and the girl was young, plump and had a smile. it was early. i was grateful that she seemed happy.
it was like being examined by the queen. lord wessex advised lady dellesups to be: submissive, humble, modest, brief.
so i was. the model of a good citizen, the kind you don’t need a social from. you can just trust that it is them.
i had to take an eye test, and for nearly twenty years i had no restrictions on my license. now i have an eyeglass restriction. i couldn’t even see the first row of numbers on line 5. with my glass on though, perfect. i guess it just goes to show i’m getting along in age and need to wear my glasses.
i watched many people leave during my time in the waiting area. some of them were giddy and smiling widely. others, grim. i’m usually in the grim set. so i determined to be grinning when i left. i was, after all, leaving. so i took my picture, which i hope turns out better than the last one. the lady behind the counter irritated me and i had to have a serial killer photo for six years, but in this one, i’m smiling and my hair is all over the place.
i hopped in my car and blessed the God of heaven for being with me at the dmv.
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