(adjective:) holding tenaciously to a purpose, course of action, oropinion; resolute.
I am not proud of my tendency to concede to the opinions of others in order to avoid confrontation and expedite everyone's happiness. I am often irresolute in my opinions and always tentative to stand my ground in front of "authority" and those ranked higher than me in my mind's made-up hierarchy. In other words, I'm a wimp.
Today, I decided to change. Today, I was pertinacious. ...for 10 seconds ...in the most trivial way possible.
I finally gathered my 6pts of identification and drove to the DMV to trade in my underaged vertical license for a grown-up horizontal license(!!!). I knew the question would come...
"Are we keeping the same picture or taking a new one?"
Joe was a dorky little man with a Pittsburgh Steelers pin on his shirt, a Chicago Cubs paper weight beside him and a Stanley Cup hat perched on the corner of his desk chair. He was softspoken, the type of guy that tries too hard for people to think he's cool. He probably didn't even like sports, he seemed more like the kind of guy to prefer a game of Call of Duty over watching the NBA finals. I felt bad for him because the loud-mouthed woman sitting next to him, Tanisha, drowned him out with her own booming words, and her shoulders were twice as broad with her head soaring at least a foot over his. He seemed invisible next to Tanisha. I so badly wanted to make his day easy and reply to the inevitable question with a passive "Oh, my old picture will due."
Sorry Joe, not today. Today, I am pertinacious. I am stubborn. I've wanted a new ID picture since five minutes after I took it the first time.
"I think I'll take a new one." I smiled.
Joe shrugged his tiny shoulders and counted to four to prompt me for the flash.
"Is this okay?" he asked patiently.
At this point, like on my 17th birthday, the passive Maggie would answer "Yes it's fine," without even looking at it in order to speed the process and avoid irritating the photographer.
Sorry again Joe, not today.
I had two chins, my face was shiny and the hair on the left side of my part was sticking out like Sideshow Bob.
"Oh, can we do that one more time please?"
Luckily, Joe seemed amused, not irked. He probably noticed my efforts to smooth my hair and moisturize my lips before my number was called. He expected a re-do.
After another dull four counts, the camera flashed, I looked at the picture - and was only slightly more content.
"Much better," I lied.
I only had the appropriate single chin in this picture... but my face still shined like a new penny and my hair was only mildly more in place. And why did he have to zoom in so much??
One stubborn re-do was enough though. Could you imagine if I asked for a third picture taken to be put on my license that probably no one will ever ask to see aside from the obligatory alcohol server?
I'm glad I stood my ground in taking a new picture. It felt good to be pertinacious, at least for a few seconds. I'm now looking forward to the next opportunity to change the picture on my drivers license. Oh and the next opportunity to be a stubborn hard-ass who gets what she wants ;)
I'm just happy to flash my horizontal the next time I get carded!