Steve from the DMV...

By John McMullen
The Phanatic Magazine

I never had a lot of empathy for guys like Michael Vick. In fact, I've always been in the "where there is smoke, there is fire club" until today.

Now I know circumstantial evidence is exactly that...circumstantial.

And I thank "Steve from the DMV" for that...

But, "Steve from the DMV" is also about to learn something -- never piss off the guy with the soapbox.

I woke up knowing my Thursday wasn't exactly going to be the greatest day. I was under the weather and psyching myself to sit at the leper colony known as the New Jersey DMV. It was time to finally change my license from Minnesota to the Garden State.

But, John McMullen from Summit, New Jersey had other ideas. Or at least someone claiming they were John McMullen. Somehow my social security number and information got hooked up with an address in Summit, this despite the fact that I have never set foot in a town I will now forever hate.

And John McMullen from Summit had his license suspended. So after spending an hour at one asylum, I was told to drive 30 minutes away to find the head leper..."Steve from the DMV."

Instead of helping me with my problem, "Steve from the DMV" took another road. The Colombo of Motor Vehicles made me wait yet another hour until I finally was fed up and made my way to the effeminate receptionist to ask for my documents back. After all, I had to head to Upper Moreland Township and the palatial offices of The Phanatic Magazine.

No dice, Mannix had made me stew enough and he was ready for me. The interrogation began and despite being known as a "hot head" I kept my cool...Until "Steve from the DMV" called me a liar for not knowing the exact dates and addresses of my 12 or so moves over the past 15 years.

"You want to go home and practice," Steve quipped.

I, perhaps not politely, pointed out that maybe I would know that information if I sat behind the same desk for 40 years insulting people.

Game on or was it going to be cuffs on?

After "not accusing" me of anything for the next 15 minutes. I finally lost it and asked Steve and his quiet cohort just what exactly did they think I was trying to pull? I had a legal Minnesota license so why would I try and change it over, knowing I had a suspended license in Jersey?

Was it possible someone at the DMV could have made a mistake and hooked up my info with another John McMullen? Logic and common sense seemed to stun the DMV"detectives"...but only for a moment.

I was steadfastly informed the Great State of New Jersey could never make such a mistake. After a few more minutes of knocking heads,I was finally allowed to leave and asked "Steve from the DMV" what his last name was.

"I'm the only Steve here," he lied.

"That's all right, I'll tell my lawyer to ask for the biggest a%$hole in the building," I shot back.

As I walked out, I half-expected the local deputies to swarm. Then, I drove home like I was Henry Hill after my 10th line. Every cop and every helicopter was keeping an eye on me. They had finally located John McMullen from Summit and "Steve from the DMV" was going to pounce.

It seems like everyone with any kind of authority has become a glorified mall cop these days. Whether it's Mike Nifong, Alberto Gonzalez or "Steve from the DMV", give someone a little power and they like to make other people unhappy to mask their own miserable existence.

The moral of the story?

Maybe Michael Vick is innocent...

Nah, not really, he's a piece of s*&%. Just like "Steve from the DMV"...