A Dollar Short

by Russell Waterman
California, USA

A Dollar Short


Having to visit the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) is never pleasant. It’s lots of people waiting in long lines being waited on by unhappy employees. In the early spring of 2007, I had business at my local Southern California DMV office and dreaded it.

My father had “gifted” his old car to my twenty-year-old son, whose truck had finally given up the ghost. So, prepared for the worst, my son and I got the paperwork to transfer the car into his name and drove down to the DMV.

First, we stood in line at the Information Desk. They reviewed the paperwork to determine what line we should go wait in next. When we got our chance, I handed the lady our paperwork and told her why we were there. She mumbled something and started to plow through some forms, clearly searching for more to give me. Anticipating the form she was looking for, I handed her a completed copy of another document I had with me. Indeed, that was the one she was searching for.

Thinking I had just made her job a little easier by having the form already filled out, I expected maybe a grin. Instead, she frowned.

Next, she handed us a ticket with a number on it. “Have a seat and wait for your number to be called.”

We found two seats together amongst the rest of the sweaty mob of people waiting to be called. We waited. And waited some more.

Finally, my number was called. Stepping up to the counter shoulder to shoulder with other people taking care of their business, I gave the lady all our forms.

“That’ll be $15.00,” she said.

After emptying our wallets, we could only come up with $14.00! My brain started to spin. I was trying to figure out a way to pay so we wouldn’t have to come back and wind through each line all over again.

“Do you need a dollar?”

I did a double take and looked at the gentleman beside me. He was in his mid-thirties, Hispanic, clean-shaven and soft-spoken. “Do you need a dollar?” he asked again.

“Why, yes, I do,” I said.

He casually reached for his wallet and gave me the bill. I thanked him very much, trying not to act too shocked at my good fortune.

We completed our business and started to leave. The gentleman was still standing next to me. I gently tapped him on the shoulder and extended my hand in gratitude.

“Thank you again, sir,” I said shaking his hand.

“Bless you,” he replied.

Even though it was only a dollar, he had really surprised me. Instead of leaving the DMV in a foul mood from being put through the meatgrinder, thanks to him I left with a good feeling.

Originally published as HeroicStories #731 on Nov 28. 2007
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2 thoughts on “A Dollar Short”

  1. In the PA DMV people are not allowed to pay with cash. Several years ago I had the cash but they would not accept it. Had to go home and get my check book.

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  2. Isn’t it gratifying and inspiring that angels turn up in the most unexpected places. My husband and I spent a whole day in Mexico City’s gigantic airport having had our luggage misplaced, so we missed our transfer to Guadalajara, and were sent from pillar to post to buy another ticket. Our elderly porter stayed with us throughout the ordeal as we discovered that offices were closed and we would have to wait until the next morning to rectify matters. At the end of the day we tipped him very well. He crossed himself, we hugged and it was only then that I looked at his name tag. It said “Angel”.

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