Worse cancer day of my life.
Walked in to have my license renewed, all was well until the photo.
They operator requested I remove my scarves. “We need to see hair,” he said.
“I don’t have hair.”
We need to see your hairline.
“There isn’t one. I’m bald. I have cancer.”
“It’s the rules.”
“Get me a supervisor.”
Two appear. They talk among themselves. “Sorry m’am,” Dope 1 says, “It’s our rule.”
Hmm. I’m beginning to tear up. I have to keep this thing for 5 years. I ask if they can use my old image. “no.” Can you grant me an extension for 6 months? I’m almost done with chemo. “no.” There must be some compromise. Please. Have some compassion.
Dope 2 sees that I’m close to meltdown. “Could you just push the scarves back enough to see part of your brow more?” I oblige. Sit down. Glare.
He hands me the card. I walk to the car. And all the tears release in the parking lot. Sorry, Jesse White. You missed teaching compassion to your robots. I’m embarrassed for your office. I was humiliated today, because I’m lucky enough to have cancer. ASSHOLES.