Well. Ordinarily I hate to speak unkindly of anyone or anything. But then there is the DMV, the Department of Motor Vee-hickles. Why must they torture us so? I had a simple request from my sister-in-law Margarita (Not Her Real Name) who is sometimes my next-door neighbor and other times, like now, is a resident of an unnamed foreign country. She e-mailed to ask me to call the DMV and check on the personalized license plates she ordered before she left in January.
She owes me big time.
All I was able to find out was that I'm not allowed to know anything, like whether or not the license plates are sitting there in the office waiting to be picked up, which wouldn't matter because I am not allowed to pick them up anyway, and they won't hold them past 30 days, probably, unless you ask, and then they may or may not. And if they get sent back (to where? Prison??) they have to be ordered again and paid for again.
Thank you very much, State of California. You suck.
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1 comment:
They suck in Utah too! I think the qualifications for such a job is titled "Are you bitchy?" and that's all...you're hired!
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