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February 18, 2010
Titusville Driver’s License Office worst customer service ever
 My View
By Susan Walden
I’ve been to the threshold of hell.
It’s the Department of Motor Vehicle Driver’s License Office on SR 405 in Titusville.
It doesn’t have to be hell, but the people make it that way.
A few weeks ago I had to go there to renew my driver’s license. Sounds simple enough, right? Childbirth was easier (and I had 36 hours of labor and a C-section).
Nothing had changed – same address, I’m the same person, but there were more documents to show. I knew this before I went there because like a good citizen, I did my homework. I carefully extracted the information I needed, including my marriage license, showing my name changed from my maiden name to my married one.
I made an appointment online so I figured I had done all the right things to get my license renewed.
I walked in and was met by a line of people. I dutifully stood in back of the 5-people line. I made my way up to the desk by the door and the woman, not smiling, asked for my documents. Gee, I thought I saw that in a Nazi movie once. My nightmare began.
She told me emphatically that my marriage license wasn’t valid. This year I will be married 25 years. I’ve lived overseas, worked for the government, had two secret clearances, two passports, but this little state office says it isn’t legal.
I told her nicely that she must be mistaken. We were married at Fort Knox, Ky., which is a federal installation, so I didn’t have a state cookie-cutter marriage license like the one she might be used to. The woman told me she’d pass me through but the guy in the back would probably agree with her and reject me. That’s when I figured they might get brownie points, possibly bonus time off, for ushering people out the door instead of actually working with people. She gave me a number, which was eight numbers off from the one being served, and told me to sit.
First of all, why do I have to wait a half hour if I have an appointment and I’m getting a number like everyone else?
I couldn’t wait to sit down and call my husband. This Italian-Irish gal was fired up.
“Yea, Greg, just thought I’d tell you we’re not legally married according to this DMV. Apparently we’ve been living in sin nearly 25 years, have two illegitimate children and two illegitimate dogs,” I said very loud, meeting chuckles in the room by the other people who were tired of waiting and feeling beat like a prisoner.
My husband said, “What?” He laughed and said it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“Yea, she wants me to go back home and get the ‘real one,’” I said.
When my magic number was finally called I thought I’d get waited on, but was mistaken. That was just to sit in another room. Great service, people.
Finally, after 15 minutes sitting there, the guy in the back called me over. He looked unprofessional with his sunglasses tacked on his forehead as if he was going to run out any minute and go surfing. Maybe he wanted to look cool. Maybe he was an alien and he was hiding the other set of eyes. No, he was just arrogant.
Without smiling, he hung his head and asked for my documents. Again, like I was waltzing into a Nazi death camp.
The first document he scrutinized as if it was a Mensa puzzle was my birth certificate. He huffed and put his hand to his chin. It made me wonder what could possible be wrong with my birth certificate.
After what seemed like five minutes, he began looking at the other documents.
“So, where did you get this Ann name?” he asked really snottily. “You weren’t born with this middle name so did you just, like, make it up or something?”
“No, I was born Catholic and when I was 8 years old I was confirmed with the name Ann, so this is my middle name,” I explained nicely, hoping he’d soften up.
“Well, lady, you can’t just make names up and put it on legal documents because it just isn’t legal,” he said in a mocking tone. “Look at this – Susan A, Ann, what is this?”
“It’s on my social security card and on everything I have,” I said.
“Well, it isn’t right,” he said.
I’ve died and gone to a communist country. I suspected so, but it was confirmed when I walked into the Titusville DMV.
I must stop here and say I feel he disrespected my religion and that really bothers me. I guess state employees aren’t given classes in respecting our nation’s top five no-no’s you don’t mess with– race, religion, sex, age and national origin.
Then he looked at my marriage license.
“This isn’t legal,” he said holding it up with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. “You need to go home and get your marriage license.”
“This is it. This is all I have,” I said. I explained it was an Army wedding, and he said he knows the document isn’t legal.
“Look, there’s even white out on it because someone made a mistake,” he said. He acted like he was getting perverse humor out of rejecting me. “It doesn’t even have a seal on it.”
“This piece of paper has been used for almost 25 years,” I explained, narrowing my eyes, my face as red as my new Camaro. “I’ve gotten secret clearances and used it many times and the federal government does not have a problem with it, so what’s yours?”
He gave me a five-minute history lesson on how the terrorists in 9-11 crashed the planes and how some were trained in Florida.
I didn’t know they flew the planes because they had a driver’s license. Don’t you have to get a flying license? Come on, what does this have to do with a driver’s license?
“Well, Florida is really cracking down. We had egg on our face from 9-11 and it won’t happen again,” he said.
“Well, I can assure you I’m just driving my car. I have no plans to kill Americans and I don’t work for bin Laden. I was an Army wife, worked in the Army and the Air Force. Plus, since 9-11 I’ve renewed my license and I didn’t have to go through this before. You are truly saying my marriage isn’t legal? Are you kidding me?”
“No, lady, I didn’t say your marriage wasn’t legal.”
“OK, if you say my marriage license isn’t legal, then how can my marriage be legal?”
“It isn’t the same thing,” he said.
I was working with a real mental heavyweight here.
“Look, I know the county near Fort Knox has a record of it, so you’ll have to request it and I’ll give you a 30-day extension,” he said.
“But the county is addressed right here on the front and the back. See the stamp? It shows the date it went into the Hardin County books,” I said. “Do you think someone made this up? I even got two passports with this.”
I said the magic word. Passport.
“Wait, you have a passport? Why didn’t you tell me? Go home and get it and I’ll give you the license,” he said.
“Why does the passport matter? Is this like a game of cards where the passport trumps all other documents or something?” I asked.
“Well, if the federal government let you have a passport, then they thought the marriage license was OK, so it’s OK with us.”
“I’ve been telling you, and you can see by some of these documents, like my social security card, that the federal government is OK with my marriage license. Maybe it’s because I was married by federal employees on a federal instillation?”
I was instructed to go home, get it and he promised I could come back and be the next person he saw.
“And I bet it doesn’t have Ann on it,” he said it like a duel, a challenge of some weird sorts. I knew it had, so I just smirked at him.
I drove home cussing all the way. I was in between laughing because it was so ludicrous and crying from frustration.
I opened my fireproof box where we keep all our documents and there it was. “Ann” it said after Susan.
“Hee, hee you SOB!,” I screamed. The dogs looked up at me like I was crazy.
I drove back to the DMV office and was stopped by the man sitting at the desk. He told me he had to see my documents. I gave them to him but told him I was told to come back and showed him my priority paper letting me get back in quickly.
You’ll never believe what he said.
He shook his head, put his eyes up in the air, and said, “This document isn’t legal,” holding up my marriage license.
“Look slick, I’ve been through this twice, OK? This is why I’m back in here. Look, I promise when I really get married I’ll invite you to the wedding, OK? Maybe you all should pay for it.”
He wouldn’t look at me. See, he knew his attitude was wrong and he couldn’t look me in the eye. It was an epidemic there. It’s easier to make fun of you, treat you like dirt and then reject you if you don’t look someone in the eye.
“Here’s your number,” he said. The number was six off from the number called.
“No, I don’t need a number. I was told to come back in and go back to the guy who instructed me to go home,” I said.
“No, you have to have a number.”
“Listen to me. I’m not sitting here again and I refuse to be treated like this any longer. I’ve been put through the ringer for two hours, so I’m going to see this guy now.”
I walked up the few stairs and stood there. My “Mr. Sunglasses” in the corner motioned me over.
I stood back because he was helping two young men.
“I’m sick of going through this,” one guy said to him. “I’ve been here since 11 a.m.”
This was truly a torture chamber, I thought. When you die, if you’re bad, you go here.
The two guys left and Mr. Sunglasses asked me to come up to him. I plopped down my passport almost giddy with excitement to see him open it and read “Ann.” He turned the page on the passport.
“Wow, it says Ann.”
“Gee, fancy that,” I said with a smirk.
He even complained that he was having a bad day. He was having a bad day? Are you kidding me?
I told him I guessed I still have to call Hardin County to request something other than this marriage license because I didn’t ever want to go through this again. I said at some point my passport will expire and maybe they won’t take the marriage license any more. And get this. Do you know what he said?
“No it will be OK because you just show them this new driver’s license.”
Here are my points on this nightmare. Someone needs to investigate this DMV Driver’s License office on a number of things.
First and foremost is the way they treat their customers. I saw one woman employee henchman at the door berate and interrupt a man who was trying to explain something but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He had an accent but could speak English well, if she’d ever let him speak.
I truly believe they get happiness out of rejecting people and finding ways to just say “no.” I understand they have to scrutinize documents but this can be done without the attitude as if they were God, judge and jury.
There’s no sense in having an appointment, because the ordeal takes at least two hours and you have to wait on several lines anyway.
They’re asking way too many people, who are angry, to go home and get something else. They should hope they don’t say this to someone who’s on the edge because it could turn into a messy, horrible scene. Let’s be clear, I certainly don’t advocate this, but there are many people on the edge. Why push it?
Along with losing the terrible attitude and lack of professionalism, they need to dress more appropriately and get those sunglasses off their faces.
Their office motto is service, integrity, courtesy, professionalism, innovation and excellence. That’s a laugh because I challenge anyone to tell me they have any of these things. Never had in the nine years I’ve lived here.
According to several longtime Titusville residents, this office has a bad reputation for treating their customers badly – so badly that they’ve gone to other offices instead over the years.
It’s only a matter of time before someone has a heart attack right there on the floor from the stress. No one should go through their attitude and badgering.
People need jobs. If these employees don’t like their jobs, they should do us all a big favor and walk out the door. I’m sure we can find people around here who would love to fill the jobs and be a lot nicer.
My experience wasn’t an isolated incident. In April, my son and I were there so he could get a learner’s permit. It was such a nightmare, my kid even told them off and I didn’t stop him because he was 100 percent correct.
The person you meet at the door needs to be nice. We are not going into a prison camp. We are not substandard creatures. Rolling the eyes, tsk-tsking, and shaking the head is unacceptable behavior. Period.
I encourage everyone who has ever had a problem with this DMV Driver’s License office to contact the state of Florida Department of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles office. Julie L. Jones is the executive director. E-mail her at executivedirector@flhsmv.gov. I did and this is what Jones wrote back:
First, let me apologize for the unprofessional service you received at our Titusville office while renewing your driver license. We are focused on customer service and it is important to me that our customers have positive experiences with us and are treated professionally when doing business with our agency.
I have asked that this incident be addressed and I appreciate you calling it to my attention.
Julie Jones, Executive Director |
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