Posted on 11/05/2013 8:17:36 PM PST by MrChips
“Now serving A413 at window number 6," blared the computer-generated female speaking voice over our heads. “Now serving C742 at window number 3" it continued. Here we are at the Department of Motor Vehicles . . . excuse me, it has been annoyingly renamed the DDS, the Department of “Driver Services “(inspired, no doubt, by some scientific paradigm spawned by the Department of Education). “Now serving B318 at window number 4." The voice droned on. I turned to my 90-year old father, whom I had brought there not for a license renewal, since he has given up his car keys, but simply for an ID card. “Dad,” I said, “I feel like I’m in an airport, only I don’t get to go anywhere.” He laughed. And the laugh was worth enduring the tiresome boredom of our hour-long wait. “Now serving E513 at window number 10." Yes, there were actually 12 windows serving customers, but no more than half were staffed at any given time, despite the 150 people waiting. One hour turned into two hours, and I grew impatient with the government inefficiency, cursing the system under my breath, and sometimes audibly, as if to annoy the government employee sitting in front of me, a very large black woman wearing a “County Public Schools Police” badge on her uniform. But, she was reading a book about Jesus, and I bit my tongue. “Now serving D937 at window number 2," the voice blared. A pleasant voice, really, but made to seem unpleasant because mechanical, and soul-less. Finally, I heard “Now serving E731 at window number 4." Our number! My Dad’s number! And I joyously escorted my aging father, half-blind, up to the window. He handed over his papers: an old driver’s license, a yellowed social security card, a copy of his birth certificate, and he actually had with him his discharge papers from the Army. “I’m afraid I lost my original Social Security card while swimming the Ruhr river and dodging German bullets in World War II,” he explained. The clerk did smile. But, then she said to this highly decorated WWII veteran, “I’m afraid we can’t use your birth certificate; it’s not the original, either.” This, despite being told two hours earlier that they could look it up on their computer. I protested. She merely responded, “Do you have anything else?” A female voice blared “Now serving C3192 at window number 5." Suddenly panicked that our two-hour wait was all for nothing, I blurted out, “Well, in my car there are some forms from his stock broker with his name and address on them. Will that do?” She said, “Well, maybe.” I dashed off to get them, not knowing that there was a pouring rain outside. I ran. By the time I returned, out of breath, I was soaked through, and handed the soggy papers to the woman behind the counter. “Well, I dunno,” she said, turning to ask for guidance from another clerk. Then she turned and looked back at me, standing there in a puddle of water, soaked through, shivering. I mouthed the words, “Oh please. We have been here for two hours.” After a long pause, she looked at my 90 year-old father, and it seemed as if this government clerk was searching for her soul. “OK,” she said, stamping the papers quickly as if to be done with them, and with us. Dad took his new ID card, tried in vain to read it, and then folded it neatly into his wallet like some little treasure, and with the kind of gratitude and grace that only a very good and kindly man could have mustered at that particular moment. We walked to the door; I fetched my umbrella for him. “That was scary,” I said. “Orwellian!” And then it came to me: “The future of government-run health care will be like this. Wait your turn. Just take a number. Now serving A372 at window number 9.” My father laughed.
Americans fear bureaucrats more than armed soldiers of an enemy state. Why do we bow down to some drone at the DMV?
I know the feeling. When I renewed my license last year, I forgot about some extra $10 “processing fee” and didn’t have enough money with me. I had to run to the ATM, pay an exorbitant fee and sheepishly run back to the window to avoid waiting again.
These people are supposed to be working for us, yet they cow us as we wait in line for the privilege of their “service.”
Yep. Looks familiar.
I got the same feeling . . . that for two hours of my life, a bunch of dumb, largely fat and poorly dressed bureaucrats were in charge of my life.
You must have missed what Obama told us. You could have created an account at drivercare.gov and gotten that taken care of in 25 minutes.
It’s all worth it, just to still have your father.
Years ago I was met with such abject incompetence, inertia, hostility and (I think) racism at the DMV in Washingtion DC that I gave up and moved to Alexandria, Virginia where it was only modestly easier to get a simple driver’s license but, at least, possible. This is a true story.
Oh, and on the subject of Virginia, good luck with McAwful, fools!
And, when we sell our houses, "Uncle Joe" Barack is gonna want to take 3% on top of the 6% the realtor gets.
What the hell?
Took my daughter to get her driving test and license. . 5 HOURS!!. . .and when finally the driving tester called her name, the tester was so heavily accented that my daughter could hardly understand her instructions. . such as “start the car. .but don’t “spark” the engine!”. . .my daughter only heard her say “start the car” and she had no idea what “don’t spark the engine” meant. So she “started the car” and the lady tester starts to scream at her. . “I SAID DON’T SPARK THE ENGINE!!!”. . .my daughter gets all flustered, near tears. . .”what do you mean, “don’t spark the engine??. . what is sparking the engine??”. . .The lady screams again. “. .YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME. . .YOU SPARKED THE ENGINE”. . . .so finally they get out of the parking lot. . .but my daughter was so confused by this lady and her thick accent. . .”turn left at the next juncture”. . .so my daughter has to ask her, “you mean the next intersection?. . .juncture is intersection?”. . the lady screams. . “ARE YOU MAKING SPORT OF ME!!”. . .anyway. . it was a disaster and, of course, she flunked my daughter and I had the happy task of driving a sobbing girl home. . .Hopefully. . .she will remember this day and at some point in her life start to connect the dots and realize that the government is very very inefficent and cold . . .it took a lot of self control not to hammer the lesson home. . .”honey, you think that was bad. . wait till the government is running your healthcare!”. . .but I held off. . it wasn’t the right time. . .I just hugged her and told her we would try for the license next week.
Your realtor doesn’t get 6%. . .6% is split between the buyer’s agent’s office and the seller’s agent’s office. Those two offices then decide how much their agent will receive. A good real estate agent actually earns their money. . .Obama just steals.
I would have demanded to see a supervisor.
yes.
He is already sucking $40,000 out of us (per person - per year) so he can do what with racking up our deficit? Give it to all his pals and failed-fake energy companies?
Good Story! I’ve been to the DMV in Florida and it was much like that. On the other hand I have to relate about the last time I got my driver license renewal here in Kentucky.
I went to the county courthouse. It was a Tuesday morning about ten or so. Two cars in the visitor parking lot including mine. I made sure to leave the iron in the car and walked in. One deputy at the security desk, no one else in sight... No one. I walked through the scanner, went across the entry hall to the window that does the drivers licenses handed the guy my license and the renewal notice. One picture, twenty bucks and five minutes later I was driving back home again.
I just LOVE living in rural stick-in-the-mud Kentucky!
I don’t get why the old driver’s license couldn’t be used to get an ID card.
A SUPERVISOR!!!??? HA HA HA HA HA HA. . .Haven't been to the DMV lately, have you. . A SUPERVISOR?!!. . .SEE A SUPERVISOR!!. . .HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. . . I just lost 5 hours of my life waiting for a driving tester. . .How long of a wait is it to see a SUPERVISOR!!!???. . .Does the DMV even have such a person??. . .who needs a stinking supervisor . .to do what? Help the DMV employees to do a better job. . to serve their customers better??!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. . .!!!
I don’t either. But I learned that when my own license expires in January, I won’t be able to renew it on line and have it mailed to me, as I did last time. They are running us all through the system, again, as if we are criminals.
Sounds lovely.
Everyone has a story about their engagement with DMVs (and many other bureaucrats). It is disgusting and disheartening. Most should be fired for being rude, let alone slow and incompetent.
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