D-M-V

As a result of a recent used minivan purchase, we were faced with the much dreaded task of going to our DMV to register said vehicle.

The line stretches around the block by 7:10 am.

While most DMVs are characterized by inefficiency and incompetence, our county's DMV has elevated those poor traits to an art form. With all due respect to other DMV's, we set the standard.  Our DMV historically has been overstaffed/overpaid and has consisted of multiple, unnecessary locations. As a result, they were targeted for recent budget reductions, decreasing their locations to only two. Now, those affiliated with this department would argue that their inability to process simple transactions results from these decreases, but I posit to you here that there is no relationship, whatsoever, that their shortcomings have nothing to do with these lean economic times.

We had heard horror stories about the lines and wait times. Therefore, we struck out for the courthouse early. I mean early, as in we-were-standing-in-line-at-6:02 am early, having left our home at 5:35am. We were not catching a flight; we were trying to register a used minivan.  Anyrate... we got to the courthouse and found a place in line. We were maybe 20th in line, and the folks in front of us had brought seating, blankets, etc. Worth mentioning is the fact that the temperature was approximately 35 degrees, and the courthouse would open at 8:00, meaning that we had the better part of a two hour wait ahead of us.

We all have to face down the DMV at some point or another, but why does the crowd always seem a little off?  Jerry Seinfeld captured the essence perfectly when he declared the DMV a leper colony.  This crowd made for the best people watching ever, and we had a full two hours in which to take in everything.  There was the guy sporting an "I [heart] weed" t-shirt, that was later memorialized when he was photographed for his driver's license. There was the woman who double-checked her bag for her firearm when we were discussing the logistics of getting through security, and there were the people from seemingly every walk of life. 

Again, the officials in charge of this department would have us believe that this type of inefficiency results from the strains under which they have been placed due to recent issues.  For locals, I am delicately addressing the county's bankruptcy.  For non-locals, the county made poor bond investments, lost all of the county's money, and this debacle has been featured in the national news on many occasions.  De-BACLE.  Truly, a case study in what not to do.  And, there is the embezzlement, corruption, convictions, etc. For those unfamiliar, the county is plagued on multiple fronts.  However, back to the specific issue, these lines are not new.  When Skip moved here many years ago, he also had to be at the courthouse pre-sunrise to stand in line for a new driver's license.  In fact, he was in line at 6:20am, and was given a ticket for the very last afternoon slot of the day.  This is not a new problem; it is a recurrent problem. Therefore, with all due respect to the officials involved, the incompetence creating these lines has absolutely nothing to do with financial considerations. 

I have belabored this point enough.  The doors finally opened, the folks in front of us broke camp, and we made our way through security.  The path to the office was roped off to shuttle everyone through in a controlled fashion (think cattle).  We were given tickets to present at the door of the office; without a ticket, admittance would not be granted.  Our paperwork was given a cursory glance by a young woman assigned with working the line.  I would like to comment on her customer service skills, but, in a single word, I found her to be rude.  We were given the greenlight to advance eight feet to the door, where our paperwork was checked again by another worker.  At that point, we were told there might be a problem with the type of ink used to sign one of the documents.  They would need to check this with a supervisor, and we were asked to leave the line and await a response.  Although this did not sound promising, they returned, saying that Ms. "S" approved the signatures.

Hallelujah!

We purchased this used vehicle from a relative in another state, meaning that the vehicle had to be inspected.  Skip went to coordinate the inspection, while I was told to "hang back" in line, since the clerks "usually won't" process the paperwork without the inspection release.  And, importantly, they told me to be sure to tell the clerk that Ms. "S" had already approved the seller's signatures.   

As I hung back/out, I was able to see the full extent of the DMV work ethic.  Although there were maybe 20 people working the floor, I would have been hard pressed to identify more than two of them working.  There were make-up applications, lotion applications and huddles of three or four people in groups, laughing, talking and, you know, doing anything/everything that is the polar opposite of work.  After telling three or four people to go in front of me, I was left as the lone person in line.  Everyone else was going through the aforementioned screening process.  Most were rejected.  The clerk directly in front of the line, Ms. "L," called for the next person.  When I explained the situation, that I was waiting for the inspection, she told me to just wait in front of her window.  This was not a good omen because she merely wanted to tie up her window in order not to have to wait on other customers.  The luck of the draw had dealt us the blatant non-worker.  Not good at all. 

Skip actually found the one and only employee with any work ethic in the inspection department.  After he completed the inspection, we passed our information to the clerk.  While waiting, I had practiced how to present the information about the approved signatures.  The DMV clerks are a prickly group.  After allowing maybe 30 seconds for review, I casually said, "Oh, and they told me to tell you that Ms. S has already approved the signatures."  There was immediate push back, wherein the clerk said the signatures were not correct, and therefore, she would not process the registration.  This clerk was definitely our rudest encounter.  I reiterated that they told me to tell her the signatures were approved.   When I asked her name and attempted to read her identification tag, she turned the tag over and said, "You don't worry about my name."  We asked to see Ms. S, the supervisor, and were told she was unavailable.  The clerk asked us to move to the side so she could process other customers.  I took the opportunity to remind her that she, moments earlier, encouraged me to wait in her line for the sole purpose of avoiding customer contact.  When we asked her more questions about the perceived problem, she responded, "I'm not listening to you."  We asked for a supervisor.

A second supervisor was consulted, and this person, Ms. G, opined that the second signature was incorrect, that the last name dropped below the signature line.  We argued that the allotted space was about an inch, on which two, full signatures (six pronouns) had to be placed.  Then, they focused on the first signature, that there was "overwriting" on the signature.  Finally, the first signature was deemed illegible.  I argued strongly that signatures are often barely legible, and that is the very rationale behind the concept of printing the name AND signing the name.  "Well, I can't read it," was the response. 

"You cannot read the name.  You are telling us you honestly cannot read the name?"
"That's what I get paid to do, and I'm saying I can't read it."

We then focused on the discrepancy between the earlier approval and the problems raised with the second review.  "She did not look at the signatures," Ms. G said.

"She approved the signatures," I responded.
"She did not look at the part.  She only looked at one part."
"She approved those signatures."
"She did not look at the signatures."
"She looked at the ink.  How do you look at the ink and not the signatures?!"
"She only looked at the ink.  She did not look at the signatures." 

Y'all.

Needless to say, things went downhill from there.  We were provided with one excuse after the other (in short, they blamed the recently enacted immigration laws) for why they had to scrutinize so carefully -- each of which are patently false, as any casual reader of our local newspapers would know. 

With the exception of the gentleman who completed the inspection, every single person we encountered should be fired on the spot -- for gross incompetence, if nothing else.  And, if they ever found themselves working in the private sector, they would be terminated immediately... no excuses... no exceptions... clean out your desk.  Above all, scenarios such as these give the DMV (at least ours) its reputation.  As I sit here holding my 8 month old son after his last bottle of the day, I am saddened that he will learn that places like the DMV -- places devoid of dignity and self-respect -- exist.

The bottom line is that we were directed to yet another employee who typed (like, on an actual typewriter) an affidavit for all of the parties to sign -- again.  We were given subjective instruction on the signatures, i.e., sign the full names, big enough and legible enough to read, but not too big, as they have to fit on the line. 

What could possibly go wrong?

And (despite our prompting them to do so), they haven't even looked at our signatures yet.