My Not-So-Divine Comedy

On Monday I became lost in a metaphorical Dark Wood as I attempted to cope with the late car registration/ imaginary accident debacle.

I awoke before dawn to prepare my troubled spirit and was met by the spirit of Virgil my Aunt the Golf Fiend, who was to lead me on my journey towards hot coffee, salvation and an unsuspended driver's license...

8:00 a.m.
We stepped gingerly through infernal puddles and arrived at the first circle of Hell, which is the office of the Clerk of the Circuit Court, or Limbo. Sitting mournfully in filth encrusted chairs, we heard voices of suffering and despair that made us weep. Hollow-eyed and gaunt, the melancholy figures of our fellow doomed mortals filled the room with anguished laments as they were tormented by wasps, flies and worms.

8:30 a.m.
Charon the ferryman had taken a well-deserved vacation day, so a demonic bureaucrat named Beth helpfully informed me that I would need to pay my old late registration fine for the second time, since the system was incorrectly showing that I hadn't paid it. She could not correct this due to system problems, although I could "return another time to get reimbursed".

9:00 a.m.
Beth disappeared into the bowels of the office, from which we could hear demonic laughter and screams. Sulphuric exhalations wafted through the air.

10:00 a.m.
Beth returned and helpfully informed me that I could not pay the new fine resulting from the old fine, because the ticket was incorrect. She could not correct this due to system problems and told me to keep calling the office for a few days until they told me to return. Maniacal laughter drifted faintly behind her.

10:30 a.m.
Beth disappeared to consult with the head demon. Tortured cries pierced the air as hapless souls were dragged away to an eternity of damnation and torment.

11:00 a.m.
Beth returned and informed me that she could not remove the non-existent accident from my record, so I would need to enter the fourth circle of Hell, or the Department of Motor Vehicles.

11:30 a.m.
We entered the second circle of Hell, or the Traffic Records Office, where the slothful and sullen are left to bewail their Fate, tormented by cold mud and ennui. I sullenly waited to re-register my car, surrounded by the baleful gaze of lesser demons.

1:30 p.m.
After visiting Purgatory (Bank of America) to pull old statements for proof of last year's payment, we took a wrong turn and arrived at the third circle of Hell, or the Florida Highway Patrol office, which exuded poisonous fumes and other gaseous exhalations.

2:00 p.m.
After following the directions from the FHP, we arrived at the fourth, and final, circle of Hell-- The Florida Department of Motor Vehicles, which is designated by the ominous sign: "Abandon hope, ye who enter here." Here the atmosphere was truly chilling, as the howling of delinquent children and other damned souls filled the air. There were those who had been there for years, unkempt with matted hair and beards, fingernails so long they curled under, and wild eyes that darted constantly around the room.

Here were the wrathful, the gluttonous, the lustful, the violent, the fraudulent, the blasphemers, usurers and traitors -- all trapped in the same satanic bureaucracy. Security guards shot with red-hot arrows any who tried to escape the wrath of the DMV.

They informed me that they could not help beyond revoking the suspension on my license, so I will need to go to court to untangle the remainder of the mess.

5:00 p.m.
I arrived home and went to sleep, exhausted by my Sisyphean ordeal.