Don't Believe What You Hear About The DMV . . . It's Worse
This was written in 2003 when then-Gov. Mark Warner decided to layoff almost 600 DMV workers to save money. It was a big mistake. When I went to that same DMV office yesterday and my number came up in six minutes, I couldn’t help but recall my unforgettable day there 19 years ago.
Talk about lost opportunities. The Republicans in the General Assembly just missed a juicy one.
Had they been smart, members of the GOP would have passed a bill requiring oversized, full-color portraits of the governor be prominently displayed in every DMV office in the commonwealth.
The offices that are open, that is.
That would be the end of the Democrat's nascent political career.
But even without Mark Warner's mug hanging for all to admire, the huddled masses yearning for their license plates know exactly whom to blame - fairly or unfairly - for this Soviet-like mess.
I have been to Warner's DMV. I have waited in the lines. I have seen impeccably dressed career women weeping with frustration. I have seen grown men begging to be allowed a cigarette.
And I have heard the governor called things I can't repeat in a family newspaper, by DMV employees and Joe Public alike.
``I'm writing a letter to Governor Warner about this,'' huffed a Beach high-school teacher who was standing ahead of me in line Thursday.
``Look at this,'' he said disgustedly, pointing to the trampled bushes and the cigarette butts that covered the ground like dirty snow. ``This looks like East Germany.''
No it doesn't. East Germany looks nicer now.
This fellow and I got to be chummy during the 20 minutes or so we spent shivering together in the cold, while we waited to be allowed to enter the DMV building where we were handed numbers that entitled us to wait for almost three more hours to conduct our business. Out of the 16 service windows, I never saw more than six open at any one time.
Don't believe everything you've heard about the interminable lines and surly staff at DMV. It's much worse.
At one point during my ordeal I saw a foreign-born man, my guess is a Russian, politely ask permission to dash outside for a smoke.
The armed guard near the door turned him back.
The smoker promised he'd only be gone a minute.
``You don't get it, do you?'' the guard hissed.
With that the security man turned to the dour woman at the information desk.
``Looks like it's time for another announcement,'' he said.
Instantly, the woman shrieked the scores of people in the room to attention. Her announcement went something like this:
``Going outside is going to get you canceled. You may not smoke a cigarette. You may not run over to McDonald's.
``If you leave this room,'' she threatened, ``your number will be canceled.''
No one leaves the room. Your number will be canceled. Sounded like vaccination day at the Chelyabinsk Carburetor Works.
When the mechanical voice finally called my number I staggered to the window on legs that were stiff and numb from sitting.
``Sheesh,'' I remarked to the haggard clerk. ``If the governor walked through that door right now he'd be attacked by an angry mob.''
``Led by us workers,'' she said, noting that I was lucky. Many people wait five hours on Thursdays.
As we sorted through my paperwork, she said the stress of working at DMV was killing her. She said some of the clerks were on anti-depressants.
``You're afraid of losing your
jobs?'' I asked sympathetically.
``We're afraid of some of the customers,'' she said. ``They're really angry by the time they get up here.''
I phoned DMV in Richmond on Friday for the latest on the cutbacks. Seems that some of the 587 laid-off DMV workers are being rehired. All of the offices will reopen in the next week, but all remain closed on Wednesdays. They also open late on Thursdays, making that the most hideous day of the whole miserable week.
When I told the spokesman that I'd been a DMV customer myself, he was curious.
``Was it a good experience or bad?'' he asked tentatively.
``Gothic,'' I replied.
We working stiffs have little direct contact with government. On those rare occasions when we do, we want efficiency. Newt Gingrich and company found that out a few years ago when they got in a snit and shut down the federal government.
Now Mark Warner is learning a similarly painful lesson.
So here's some advice for our politically pubescent governor:
Next Thursday put on a wig and sunglasses (for your own protection) and head to an urban DMV office.
Once inside, take a number and a good look around.
Then, do something truly gubernatorial.
Fix this unholy mess.
