Dear Diary:
When I moved into Manhattan from Long Island in 2004, I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles office on 34th Street to update my license to reflect my new address. I had sported a beard at the time and thought I wore it well.
After the photo was taken and processed, a motor vehicle agent with very long nails was looking at the photo on her screen, tapping her fingers and shaking her head in bewilderment. Looking up at me, she said I had better come around to her desk.
To my horror, I looked like Rasputin after the third assassination attempt had failed; definitely a mug shot candidate for “wanted†in several states.
“All I'm saying is if I looked like that, I'd want someone to tell me†she declared, “and this is what we're going to do.†Passing her long fingernails over the keyboard, she said, “I'm going to hit ‘delete,' and you and I are going to pretend we never saw tha t.â€
And with that executive decision, my head shot taken 10 years earlier in 1994 was reinstated onto my license, where it remains to this day.
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