I recently wrote about how I got sandbagged into a million dollar bet with Elsbeth on whether the garbage man was due to pick up the big blue recycle bin, and lost. She went out and spent 35 bucks on a new outfit the next day.

Well ....

My drivers license was about to expire so Elsbeth urged me to go to the White Center license office next door to the Westwood Village shopping center and get it renewed this week.

This is a five-year event and requires taking a number and a chair and waiting.

As Elsbeth and I entered the main door a tiny woman came up behind us and I, as my father taught me, allowed her to enter first and get in line ahead of me. She got number 49, I got number 50.

Waiting my turn does not bother me much while seated as it is a treat to just study baggy pants teenagers, tall willowy blondes, an international medley, obese and bed-slat thin bodies, stiletto heels, brand new and tattered tenny-runners, girls with ragged knee jeans, vain guys with sculpted mustaches, hairless bowling ball heads and curly locks, ugly, pretty, smiling and frowning faces. Fascinating stuff, and it makes the time fly quickly.

As I listened for the voice announcing each succeeding number I was both alert and restless.

There are six windows so you must stay attentive. After awhile I did grow tired of studying people and noted that the tiny lady's number 49 had been called. That put me on red alert. I also became alert that my imminent number 50 coincided with some internal discomfort but bravely put mind over bladder and waited some more.

Then I noted that four of the six stations were devoid of clerks for some reason. Where did everybody go? Maybe it had to do with rest break, something I could use.

I got a little envious when I saw that number 49 was walking out and fretted some about holding the entry door for her. Then quickly discarded that ungentlemanly thought. Don't be a cad. Just be patient.

It worked. I kept my pride intact for a few more minutes and then a voice sang out number 50. Hooray.

Still in small agony I went to an open window and met a pretty brunette named Janice and she whisked through the process including taking my mug shot in less than two minutes.

I will be forever grateful to her.

As we departed Elsbeth noted how efficient and attractive Janice was. I said I didn't notice and then she said, "I noticed you were jogging standing still. You must be feeling pretty good. Do we have time to go across to Marshalls? They have a bathroom and you still owe me $999,065.00 from the garbage can bet."

Amazing how she got me to a store across the street from a license agency.

Jerry may be reached at publisher@robinsonnews.com