Being legal is too tough

If hell exists it must be some sort of waiting room, I don't find a worse place in the world that those. The other day I had to go to the police station to renew my ID (we do that in Galicia, yes) Of course in the village where I live there isn't a police station, there is not even a police officer. So I had to go to the closest town with police station, a place with no more than five thousand population, shame that day the five thousand people had to renew their IDs too.

First of all you wake up early thinking that the sooner you get there the sooner you will leave, of course that is what everybody thinks and when you arrive you see a great mass of people there, just waiting, the luckiest ones reading gossip magazines pretending they just do it because they are there and no because they really like those, the others just staring at the infinite while moving a leg up and down, down and up.

I took a number and sat down, most of the people said hello because that is one of the best moments in the waiting room, when a new one enteres and becomes the most prick in the place, disoriented trying to understand what is going on there, trying to figure out how much time is he going to be there, just waiting. After a good twenty minutes of staring at the infinite witnessing how nobody called for a number I realised that this place was slow, I look to the number they gave me, it was the 53.

Me: - What's the last number they called for?

Sad old lady: - 9

That was the closest I've been to death, that cold, souless and hopeless answer made me think that maybe that old sad lady was young and happy when she came into that room. I was facing my future, and it was no good. I took a look to the people around, some of them were sleeping, maybe dead, others where just talking to themselves, obviously going nuts. A kid was playing with his Nintendo, he seemed normal until I found out he was playing with the machine turned off. An officer came and called the number 10, a very old man broke down and cried, then another old man showed the number ten ticket and after hugging and saying good bye to everybody he left.

I looked the the man criying and asked him:

Me: -Why are you crying sir? you ok?

Sad old man: - You bet I am... I'm closer than ever, only five to go...

That was it for me, I don't want to be an old man who cries because his turn has almost came. Like a hero (I'm probably a legend in that town right now) I got up, put my number in the coffe table and took off under the whisper and sounds of impression of the people there. I prefer to live with an expired ID than die with a renovated one. Being legal is too tough!