Thursday, June 7, 2012

The Gynocologist, Walmart and the BMV

We all have places we dread going.  In my top three are my annual 'female' visit to the doctor, Walmart and the BMV.  The first only comes around once a year with benefits that outweigh it's stirrup-induced downfalls, so it's tolerable.  Walmart I can generally steer clear of...although every once in a while and defying all logic, I find myself sucked into the vortex of shopping perdition.  But the BMV is a place that's often unavoidable and almost always a source of frustration.

In the last few weeks, we added a vehicle to our fleet while getting rid of another, and we gained a freshly permitted young driver.  These three tasks would seemingly have required a maximum of three visits to the beloved Bureau of Motor Vehicles. Of course, had that happened, I wouldn't be taking the time to write about it now.

Adding the first vehicle was a breeze.  In and out with no problems other than being some $600 poorer.  But then I couldn't find the title for the vehicle we were letting go.  In all fairness, the BMV isn't at all to blame  for my careless misplacement (or more likely the unfortunate shredding) of our original title.  Nor is it responsible for the bank's failure to release the lien.  But everything from then on I feel totally validated in blaming on them.

My first bone of contention...you can't call the local license branch directly anymore.  Like many other fine institutions, the powers that be at the BMV have implemented a voice mail maze that I'm sure is designed to cause enough aggravation to insure patrons either (1) give up or (2) spontaneously combust from utter exasperation.  I chose option #1.

So an unplanned trip to one of my least favorite places to visit became absolutely necessary.   And because I hadn't been able to talk to a flesh and blood human being, I had no idea at that time what the issue was that was preventing me from being able to order a new title online.   I didn't know what to take with me or what to do in advance to prepare for this trip. I showed up empty handed and annoyed.

Once the gal explained that the lien had never been released by the lender even though the vehicle had been paid off for well over three years, I asked if I could have the proper paperwork faxed to the branch so we could get things cleared up right away.  She said, "no problem", and jotted down the fax number for me.  A quick call to the credit union, and it looked like we'd have a relatively simple solution to my problem.  But an hour later...and only a few minutes before closing time...still no fax.  I tried to call the loan department at the credit union again, but after 4pm on a Friday, I had no luck.

The gal at the BMV offered to call me in the morning if the fax came through.  How nice, I thought, even though it would mean another trip to the branch.  So I gave her my number and headed off.

But come Saturday morning, I still hadn't heard from the credit union or the BMV.  Now I knew the loan department at the credit union could be closed, but the BMV was open til noon.  Of course, because of the voice mail h...e...double hockey sticks....I couldn't actually call to see if they'd received the paperwork yet.  So I decided to just wait until Monday when I could call the credit union before making the trip to town.

On Monday, I went in to the credit union with a head full of steam that had built up over the weekend.  I planned to let them know just how annoyed I was to have been left stranded at the BMV for over an hour waiting on a fax that never came through.  But the agent there was quick to show me that they had indeed sent the fax...twice.  And both times it had been returned as undeliverable.  I still had the piece of paper the gal at the BMV had written the number on for me in my purse...same number the credit union had tried to fax...same wrong number.  The agent at the credit union then told me they had tried to call the branch to ask for the correct fax number, but guess what...they had ended up in the automated purgatory all callers to the BMV land in.  And like me, they had chose option #1 and simply gave up on getting through to a real person.

At least I finally had the paperwork I needed to get my new title ordered.  But that was not the end of my misadventures with the BMV.  Sadly, it wasn't even the most irritating encounter I'd have with them that week.

Just two days later, I had to take the last of the little birdies from this nest to acquire the much coveted learner's permit.  We had gathered every piece of identifying paperwork we could find on the boy...birth certificate, social security card, passport, W2 and a bank statement.  He even had his student ID and public library card for good measure.  We had covered all our bases...something from each of their required categories.  The only thing we were missing was a blood test to prove he really belongs to his father and me...which I wouldn't be surprised if they start demanding somewhere down the line.

But upon presenting our stack of documents to the same gal who had provided me with the incorrect fax number, my son's dreams of obtaining his permit were quickly dashed that day.  That W2 and bank statement would be no help in proving his Indiana citizenship.  They needed something with the physical address on it.  But no one is sending things to our physical address...because the United States Postal Service doesn't deliver to our house here in podunkville.

The gal suggested a utility bill.  Seriously??  He's 15.  He doesn't have utility bills.  He doesn't have any bills.  How about his grade card?  Card grades are mailed...to our P.O. box.  Transcript?  School's out.  There's no one there to print a transcript right now.

Then she tells me she could accept MY birth certificate and two other documents with MY physical address on them.  Although how that proves where HE lives is beyond me. It's just her taking my word for it that he resides where I reside.  But if she's going to take my word for that much of it, why not take my word for the rest of it?  Seriously...we didn't have to provide this much documentation to get the kid's passport or send him to a third world country on a missions trip where he traveled without us!          

But at least we had a solution to our problem.  However, she informed me, the one piece of ID they will not accept that has my physical address on it...wait for it....

MY DRIVER'S LICENSE.

Apparently, having proven my identity and residence to them once upon a time no longer is good enough when I'm vouching for the identity and residence of my minor child.  (Perhaps spontaneous combustion isn't just a concern while using the BMV's phone system!)  Strange how the one piece of ID practically every place else will accept as proof of who I am and where I live isn't good enough for the one place that issues it!

But without any other options, we returned home to gather yet more documents.  And then, with fingers crossed and migraine medication on hand, we were off to the BMV again.  This time, thankfully, we left with a a little piece of paper that made my son smile in such a way that made it all worth it.  Maybe we'll celebrate with a trip to Walmart...NOT!!



    


1 comment:

  1. I feel your pain on this one. I called to see what I could use as proof to change my address when I renewed. Since I do everything online, I had to go to the utility sites and print out the bill. I don't have any credit cards or hospital bills so needed something else. I told her I had two pieces of mail from them with the correct address, she told me that wasn't good enough. I felt like you, they sent it to me so why is it not good enough.

    Then there is that they want you to do everything online, fine. But then if you do have to actually go in they print you temporary stuff, a total waste of ink and paper if you ask me. It was so much easier when you could walk in there and just get your license or plates on the spot.

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