DMV-Devil’s Right Hand Man

Writer Livie Hall reflects on the frustration encountered at the DMV

DMVBy: LIVIE HALL

LIVIE HALL
LIVIE HALL

Managing Editor

Anything that requires you to take a number and wait in line to be greeted by a grumpy, middle-aged human is never good.

Unfortunately, the government mandates that you must waste time in these horrible lines.

If you have ever had a driver’s license, license plates or anything else to do with a car, then you have surely encountered the fresh hell that is the Department of Motor Vehicles.

Not many errands bother me. I love to get in my car and drive around town to accomplish things, it makes me feel productive.

But God forbid my license is expired or I have moved to a new town. Nothing ruins my day more than the hour I spend in that fluorescent-lit prison cell.

My license recently expired for the first time since I had gotten it. I noticed way after the fact and hurriedly jumped on it.

Prior to my arrival at the DMV, I had called the license bureau, where an utterly useless automated man told me everything

I needed to bring – except a proof of residency. I thought I was prepared.

When I walked into the room, the entire atmosphere changed. The sunny day outside turned cloudy when I opened the door.

I took my number and smiled at the lady at the desk. After she stared me down, I took my seat. When another lady snapped the word “next,” I headed over.

“How can I help you?” she asked, ever so cheerfully.

“I need to get my license renewed,” I said.

“Need your license, Social Security number and proof of residence,” she said as she continued to make eye contact with only the computer in front of her.

I fumbled with my things, pulling out two of the three she had requested. I did not have a proof of residency.

When I told her this, she could not have cared less. She said I needed to bring that in, handed my expired license back and called for the next person.

I stormed out behind a guy who seemed to have had a similar experience. He took the words right out of my mouth as he expressed his anger with some choice words.

I understand hating your job. I understand having a job because you need the money for your family.

What I do not understand is a blatant disregard for other people. Working with people, it is necessary to have a form of respect.

It can be annoying, but you have chosen that job. There are other jobs to have that require much less social interaction.

If the DMV would have clearer instructions, it would be easier to deal with. If someone would be kind enough to help you understand what you need to do, it would be easier to deal with.

If they would smile, even a tiny bit, it would be so much easier to deal with.

Working in customer service sucks. As a waitress, I have to be nice to rude people all day long. As long as I smile, then I do not have a guilty conscience about a customer’s reaction.

However, the people at the DMV do not have anything on their conscience. Maybe it is because they truly do not care, but I think they had to sell their souls when they signed their contracts.