My Favorite Subject - DMV

It takes a certain type of person to work for the government.  I did it for 25 years.  I was always as polite and helpful as I could possibly be, going out of my way to help anyone and everyone.  My goal was to at least show people there was ONE person working there that had their back.

I'm here to tell you that the Demented Mediocre Vxxxxxxx people are out to block your progress any way they possibly can.  They are very adept at their jobs.

Here's the problem:  I paid for my truck registration stickers on June 2 via the internet.  Since I needed a smog certification, I had that done (and sent automatically to the Department of Motor Vehicles) on June 10.  Then I went to Arizona and back to the Pumpkin Patch.  Surely by now, those tags should be in my Post Office Box.  That would be a big NO.

I tried to calm my nerves by baking some banana bread for Jonathan the parrot, knowing full well the territory I was about to stick my big toe into.

I called them in the morning.  After going through a myriad of questions, hitting the "1" button six times, I got to the part where they tell you how long you will be on hold.  One hour and seventeen minutes.  I kid you not.  

Just before I blew a gasket (because I have zero patience with these people), it said I could leave my number and they would call me back.  

While waiting, I whipped up a batch of cauliflower soup for lunch.  Apparently I already had a rather bitter taste in my mouth, because it wasn't NEAR as good as I remembered.  I'm not really a soup person anyway.  You know how you are hungry two minutes after eating Chinese food?  That's me with soup.

I was still waiting for my call.  I sewed this quilt together, trying to be patient because the directions had an error in measurement that I didn't catch until it was too late.  Frustrating, but not NEAR as frustrating as the DMV.

At long last at 4:30 pm, they called.  When I said hello, I could tell I was on hold.  The music played on for about ten minutes before someone finally answered.  I explained the problem.  OH she said ... "we mailed the sticker".  Okay, can you tell me WHERE you mailed it.  "Why to your address on Bellevue Road".

I haven't had that address in three years.  In fact, I changed ALL my registrations to the current address and received every registration for the last TWO years.  Why all of a sudden is THIS one going to the old address? 

"Oh I have no idea".  Yes I completely understand that!!!!  Since you agree it's paid until June of 2020, could you please send out another sticker and change that address.  "Why of COURSE NOT"!!  I have to download a form, fill it out again (I've already done this twice actually) and mail it in.  

She could tell I wasn't a happy camper.  She suggested I go to the nearest AAA Insurance office, where they can not only change the address but give me replacement stickers.  I couldn't help myself ... I asked the question ... but why can't YOU do that?????

I already knew her answer ... "oh we can't do that over the phone".  You have to go to the local DMV office, where you will sit for three hours with 200 illegal immigrants getting their drivers license for free, with no car or evidence of insurance in sight.  Don't get me started.  I hung up the phone.

My first thought was to strangle someone, but cooler heads prevailed and I just cooked dinner instead.  Tuscan chicken, with spinach, parmesan and sun-dried tomatoes.  It was yummy and the perfect way to end the day, along with the text message I'll be having company today.  

I laughed out loud!!  At least I'll work off some of that frustration cleaning the house and changing the sheets in the spare bedroom!!!