I did not go to the Lakeport DMV to discover the American dream. I did it to get justice! I sent in my annual renewal fees to the DMV on July 27 for two cars. One renewal was on Aug. 1. I didn”t mind. So, the tag would arrive a few days late.
On Aug. 10, I was concerned because no tags came. AAA told me that the check had been received on Aug. 4 and the arrival of the tags was eminent. The tags did not arrive by Aug. 11, and I called the DMV. They said that the check had been processed on Aug. 8 and the arrival of the tags would be within seven to 10 days. By Thursday, I was getting antsy. I hadn”t been able to use my car because I didn”t have tags for the license. The CHP said that I could be ticketed for not having tags even though I had paid my licensing fees. On Thursday, I received a letter from the DMV notifying me that the $120 for renewal was raised to $180 because I was late!
There was only one thing to do: brave the hell that is the DMV. I arrived at 1:10 p.m. Thoughtfully, my wife suggested that I take the Record-Bee crossword puzzle to pass the time.
By 1:20, the crossword was history and I could listen to what people were saying around me. After one fellow was waiting for more than an hour. He”d suddenly got hungry and left for McDonald”s to get a bite. When he eventually returned, there were still five numbers ahead of him. Within 20 minutes his number was called. We all cheered and clapped. At least one of our members had been released from purgatory.
At 1:30, I was eager. My number was 98. The digital readout said, “97.” Unfortunately, there was an announcement, “Are there any people with appointments?” One fellow wandered up and said that he had one for 1:30. Everyone was bumped back. After the next person left, 97 loomed large, Then the horrible words were spoken: “Are there any appointments?” There were three appointments. These people occupied the technician for a very long time. Meanwhile the first technician, there were only two, was still arguing with someone over whether he could register his car. At 2:20, my number was finally called. I told the technician, “Here is where this nightmare began,” putting down the receipts for my two cars, plus the copy of my check, which the DMV had cashed. Her reply was, “Oh, oh!”
The technician began to move her fingers over the cancellation marks of the check while her lips were moving in some unreadable way, at least unreadable to me. “I”ll have to make a phone call,” she said. I kicked back. This was going to take some time. Meanwhile, the guy next to me, who was arguing for more than 45 minutes with the technician, finally said, “I”m not leaving this place without my registration or my money!” While the technician went to get her supervisor, the guy said, “These (expletive) people are morons!” He then turned to me and said apologetically, “Sorry for my French!” I looked rather blandly at him and replied, “Don”t worry. It”s Anglo-Saxon, not French.”
I was going to tell him that most one-syllable words in English, except for ones beginning in “sk,” were Anglo-Saxon because England was invaded by the Angles, Saxons and Jutes in 499 A.D. However, since he was rather choleric and kept clenching and unclenching his fists, I didn”t think he was in the mood for an etymological discussion.
After talking to several people, my technician returned. Her message was rather short. “Your tags were sent out on the 11th. As far as I can tell, this letter and your tags crossed in the mail.” I rose to leave. ” I have one question: “Why did it take the DMV so long to process my check?” I thought for a moment and said, “Wait! That”s a dumb question. I”ve been here since 1:10!” As I left, the guy next to me was still arguing. He was arguing for almost an hour. As I left, I felt like saying, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a public service announcement. Please check the person next to you to see if he is alive. If he is not, having died from old age waiting for a DMV technician, please do not dial 9-1-1. Simply take his number in line from his cold, dead fingers and keep it. It may save you two months of waiting.”
Charles Moton
Lucerne
