The Neighbor You Met at the DMV — Summary

Margaret and Donna have coffee every other Thursday. They started during the pandemic, on the phone, when Thursday afternoons had lost their shape. They kept it when the pandemic ended, switching to kitchen tables, alternating houses. Margaret makes it too strong and Donna makes it too weak, and neither has adjusted in six years.

They met at the DMV in 2009. Margaret’s number was 42. Donna’s was 44. Donna lived three streets over. Her husband knew Harold from the Rotary Club. This detail, which existed only because both women were in the same room at the same time, produced the first ten minutes of a conversation that has been going on for seventeen years.

The waiting room’s official function was queue management. Its unofficial function was what happened while people waited. The official function has been replaced by a better system. The unofficial function has no replacement, because you cannot design an accidental encounter.

The institutions that produced these encounters shared three features. They were mandatory: people went because they had to, so the room was not self-selected. They required waiting: the empty time was the condition under which conversation became possible. They were spatially concentrated: everyone in the same room, close enough to speak. The app eliminated the obligation. The efficiency eliminated the wait. The digital alternative eliminated the room.

Donna is the person Margaret called when she found the lump. Donna drove her to the appointment. Donna sat in the waiting room and waited, and did not ask how it went because Margaret’s face said it was fine, and they went for coffee and did not talk about it because Donna knew Margaret did not want to. The encounter was accidental. The friendship is not.

The DMV is now a website. Window 4 is gone. Donna is here.