In line at the BMV

That’s what my life feels like.  It’s that pathetic.  The people I want to talk to are all there in front of me, but they’re not looking back to see me reaching out for them.  I want to think that there are people behind me that would listen, but I can’t turn back to see for sure.  Every once in a while the line moves enough that I get to talk to a perfect stranger, but they can’t help.  So what else is there to do but go to the back of the line?