My sister went to the Michigan Secretary of Sate office to get my parent's vehicles legal. They needed new plates and the registrations renewed.
The line was out the door. The kiosk indicated a wait of at least ninety minutes. Sis got her number...let's say it was 724. After waiting in a short line the triage lady checked out her documentation and pronounced her good-to-go.
Shortly after sitting down my Sis noticed another lady in distress. She was having an asthma or panic attack.
Sis is a registered nurse, but even if she wasn't Sis is congenitally incapable of ignoring somebody who needed help. It is just the way she was wired at birth.
Sis walked across the room. She rummaged through the woman's purse and found a rescue inhaler. After the immediate crisis was over, Sis got a wheelchair and put the elderly woman in it. Then Sis wheeled her through the process after elderly woman's number was called. Afterward, Sis wheeled elderly woman out to her car and got her buckled in.
Sis returned to the waiting room and thought nothing more about it. By her watch she had about another 55 minutes.
"658? 658?" the next DMV clerk called. It was pretty clear that number 658 had decided that waiting an hour-and-a-half was not going to work for them.
Suddenly, the triage person boomed "658 is right THERE!" pointing at my sister.
Not one to fight a favor, Sis got up and did her business.
Nobody in the packed waiting room contested my sister's promotion.
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