I think they call it the Texas Department of Transportation, not the DMV, but no matter what they call it, it sucks.
We reside in Tarrant County, which has a population of approximately 1,750,000 people. Granted, not all of these people drive, but a lot of them do. That’s why it is astonishing to me that there are only four offices in the county where you can go to do things related to your driver’s license.
Because we recently sold our house in Amarillo and moved to a (semi) permanent location, I decided it was time to change my address on my license and register to vote. I am well aware that the State of Texas allows a person to renew her license or change her address online. Trust me. I tried it four different times in the hopes that I would not have to visit the dreaded DMV office. All four times I received an error message stating, “we cannot verify your information.” Thus, my visit to the DMV.
Let’s just say that there’s only one time in a person’s life when she actually enjoys visiting the DMV, and that’s her 16th birthday. It’s all downhill from there. The DMV makes the post office look like a highly efficient, well-oiled machine.
I arrived at opening time – 7:30 a.m. The line was already out the door. That is, the first line was already out the door. I had to stand in the “Information Desk” line. The information desk has spots for only two workers; fortunately, there were two people working, but two people are not enough and are incapable of making the line move quickly. I guess the point here is that they do not care if the line moves quickly. After about thirty minutes, I was finally at the counter. I say that I want to change the address on my driver’s license. She hands me a piece of paper, directs me to a pen and clip board, and gives me the ok to line up in the second line. I could have picked up the paper, filled it out, and been in the second line in five minutes or less, but alas, everyone has to stand in the information line. The funny thing is, it isn’t like there are lots of lines to choose from after you visit the information desk; the ladies at the information desk direct everyone to the exact same line. It’s not like it is confusing. What makes it confusing is having the stupid information desk in the first place. Everyone is constantly asking where they are supposed to go. But I digress. . .
After my first thirty minute wait, I was permitted to stand in the second line. This was the line used to wait for people who could actually do what you came to the DMV to do in the first place. About thirty minutes later, I was finally standing in front of a person who could change the address on my driver’s license. Although I knew it was futile, I explained that I had tried numerous times to change the address online, but I repeatedly received an error message. Was it because I changed counties? A problem with something else? (These questions are me trying to use logical reasoning to explain a process that clearly has nothing logical about it.) Her response: “I don’t know; sometimes the system is a little testy.” Thanks for nothing.
I had everything together – my old license, my social security card, my insurance card, and even a bill with my new address just in case she needed proof of the new address. I had all these things because a friend at work had recently gone to renew her license and was required to show all of them. Not me. She just asked for my old license and had me say my social security number. Another friend was recently told she could no longer smile in the license photo, so I was expecting this, too (dreading it, actually – do I attempt a closed mouth smile? is it going to look like I am glaring at the camera? why can't I smile? I am sure I will be smiling at the officer when he pulls me over). Nope. I got to smile.
So, to recap, here’s what I’ve learned about the DMV:
1. The point of the line system is that there is no point;
2. The “information desk” does not provide valuable information; and
3. There are no rules – if they want to ask for your social security card, they do, and if some demented driver’s license clerk does not want to let you smile in your photo, then, guess what? You don’t get to smile.
My license doesn’t expire until 2013, so here’s hoping the internet address-change system won’t be “testy” the next time I need to use it.
We reside in Tarrant County, which has a population of approximately 1,750,000 people. Granted, not all of these people drive, but a lot of them do. That’s why it is astonishing to me that there are only four offices in the county where you can go to do things related to your driver’s license.
Because we recently sold our house in Amarillo and moved to a (semi) permanent location, I decided it was time to change my address on my license and register to vote. I am well aware that the State of Texas allows a person to renew her license or change her address online. Trust me. I tried it four different times in the hopes that I would not have to visit the dreaded DMV office. All four times I received an error message stating, “we cannot verify your information.” Thus, my visit to the DMV.
Let’s just say that there’s only one time in a person’s life when she actually enjoys visiting the DMV, and that’s her 16th birthday. It’s all downhill from there. The DMV makes the post office look like a highly efficient, well-oiled machine.
I arrived at opening time – 7:30 a.m. The line was already out the door. That is, the first line was already out the door. I had to stand in the “Information Desk” line. The information desk has spots for only two workers; fortunately, there were two people working, but two people are not enough and are incapable of making the line move quickly. I guess the point here is that they do not care if the line moves quickly. After about thirty minutes, I was finally at the counter. I say that I want to change the address on my driver’s license. She hands me a piece of paper, directs me to a pen and clip board, and gives me the ok to line up in the second line. I could have picked up the paper, filled it out, and been in the second line in five minutes or less, but alas, everyone has to stand in the information line. The funny thing is, it isn’t like there are lots of lines to choose from after you visit the information desk; the ladies at the information desk direct everyone to the exact same line. It’s not like it is confusing. What makes it confusing is having the stupid information desk in the first place. Everyone is constantly asking where they are supposed to go. But I digress. . .
After my first thirty minute wait, I was permitted to stand in the second line. This was the line used to wait for people who could actually do what you came to the DMV to do in the first place. About thirty minutes later, I was finally standing in front of a person who could change the address on my driver’s license. Although I knew it was futile, I explained that I had tried numerous times to change the address online, but I repeatedly received an error message. Was it because I changed counties? A problem with something else? (These questions are me trying to use logical reasoning to explain a process that clearly has nothing logical about it.) Her response: “I don’t know; sometimes the system is a little testy.” Thanks for nothing.
I had everything together – my old license, my social security card, my insurance card, and even a bill with my new address just in case she needed proof of the new address. I had all these things because a friend at work had recently gone to renew her license and was required to show all of them. Not me. She just asked for my old license and had me say my social security number. Another friend was recently told she could no longer smile in the license photo, so I was expecting this, too (dreading it, actually – do I attempt a closed mouth smile? is it going to look like I am glaring at the camera? why can't I smile? I am sure I will be smiling at the officer when he pulls me over). Nope. I got to smile.
So, to recap, here’s what I’ve learned about the DMV:
1. The point of the line system is that there is no point;
2. The “information desk” does not provide valuable information; and
3. There are no rules – if they want to ask for your social security card, they do, and if some demented driver’s license clerk does not want to let you smile in your photo, then, guess what? You don’t get to smile.
My license doesn’t expire until 2013, so here’s hoping the internet address-change system won’t be “testy” the next time I need to use it.
ugh...I hate the DMV...such a pain
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