IN AND OUT OF DMV
By: Edwin Roberto Vásquez
The last time I was at the DMV
was in 2007. I remember it took more than two hours to process my Class C Driver
License. The employees were not so friendly, the computer technology was
ancient and the cameras blinded you for a couple minutes.
Today, six years later, the same
process took only twenty minutes; an eternity you may think, but for me was the
fastest and priceless experience ever in a local government office.
I got to an empty parking lot,
took me one minute to find my favorite parking spot. I came inside the location and waited another
minute to be helped, only because the person in front of me was in the wrong
line. Very politely, the gentleman at the counter asked if I had an
appointment. I said yes Sir and gave him
the printout I so carefully placed in my folder, which contained the confirmation
number; he gracefully tossed it in the trash, while smiling at me very
courteous. He proceeded to give me a
number and asked me to sit for a minute until my number was called. I had time
to admire both of the rectangular shaped murals painted on the walls; they were
not great, but good enough, since ninety nine percent of the people at that
particular location are careless about art, they just want to be done and gone.
I was immersed in the murals for almost five
minutes and got distracted only by several individuals who came into the
facility; they were wearing pajamas of colors so bright, I momentarily lost my
concentration and then remembered I was there for a reason. As I walked to an empty chair, two people came
in carrying food, it was early in the morning and the rest of us just had a cup
of coffee. I was glad to see the
security guards approaching to tell them food was not allowed in the facility, and
not to eat there unless they wanted to create a riot; even worse, they could
have their food confiscated.
As all of these distractions were
happening, I realized that I had been there for ten minutes and was becoming
worried this could take a long time. Suddenly number F0009 showed on a blue
screen, it was my number, I must report to window number nine. I walked two
steps and there I was, in front of an empty desk, but I was cool and gave it a
minute. A new announcement was sending number
F0010 to window nine! How was that
possible? There was nobody working at that station. One minute later the next
number, F0011 was being sent to window number nine too.
I armed myself with courage and
interrupted the person at window ten; she was busy talking to her co-worker sitting
at station number eleven. “Madam, madam excuse me, I was sent to this window to
process my Driver License and nobody is here.”
She looked at me and said, “What do you mean?” Well, the computer is off, the chair is neatly
against the desk, there is no coffee or tea on top of the desk, and there is a
(freaking) sign saying “next window.” I
didn’t say freaking sign, I thought about it for half a second; then, with my
finger, I directed her to the blue screen showing “F0009, F0010 and F0011 go to
window 9”. Her co-worker noticed how
embarrassed she was and told me, “please go to window thirteen and Maria will
help you.” (I changed the clerk’s to Maria; she looked like a Maria to me, I don’t
know why.)
From there on everything was
fast. She asked me if I wear glasses, I said yes, but for vanity only; she didn't find that amusing, since she was the one sending everybody to window
number nine. She made me read the tiny numbers on the poster without glasses. She didn't know it, but I had already
memorized the charts and passed her test. She sent me to the next window for my picture
to be taken.
The gentleman in front of me was
wearing sandals with white socks and a dark beanie. The clerk taking pictures asked him to take the beanie off; his hair was a mess and the Driver License
photo is going to be well, I think, I can use this famous phrase I hear a lot
“You know what I mean.” Like those famous Hollywood actors’ mug shots showing
on TV.
After nineteen minutes, I gave
the clerk the finger, she asked me to; my electronic fingerprint was needed and
then she took my picture without any warning and without my reading glasses. I
wanted to wear glasses; they make me look intelligent; I just hope my picture
is better than the mug shot they took off my back in 2007 when I was wearing a
mustache.
Leaving the DMV in twenty minutes…
priceless.
