Of course, my imagination is pretty good, so it can take quite a lot to out-do it.
This month my driver's license expires. I haven't been into the DMV since the last time my license expired, something like 10 years go. A guy at my work got his license renewed a few months ago and had nothing but horror stories of 2 hour long lines and very cranky people. A few weeks ago I caught an episode of the Simpsons that featured Marge's sisters and the way they run the DMV in Springfield—taunting the line with movement and then not actually helping anyone.
So, to say I was a little anxious would be an understatement. Being a controlling, OCD freak I planned my strategy and got on-line to make an appointment. (The appointment was recommended my the guy at my work, who only stood in line for 40 minutes instead of 2+ hours.) Their first appointment of the day was at 7:30am. I have this week off, so I decided to go as early as possible.
When I went over the list of things I had to take with me for proof of identification, I wondered briefly if I shouldn't take my mother, who could testify that I was who I claimed to be and that she had birthed me. Lucky for me, I've got a recent passport, I had some idea of where my social security card was and enough bills to throw at the DMV folks so they could pick which ones they wanted.
As I drove up to the building there were already quite a few cars in the parking lot. (I was 15 minutes early . . . just in case) I imagined a stinky room, loads of chairs, crying babies, people complaining on Facebook via their cell phones, cranky businessmen and much, much more.
To my surprise there were only three people in front of me. I threw my assortment of papers, passports and cards at the man who asked to see them, he gave me a number, I sat down for less than 2 minutes and then a lovely voice called my number to window #3. I was literally out of my house, to the DMV, finished renewing my license and back home in under an hour. My picture isn't even that bad.