As the above photo demonstrates, going to the BMV has always been a nightmare. You can practically see these people’s souls leaving their bodies. The guy with the briefcase is legitimately dead, he just hasn’t fallen over yet.
Now, as someone who’s convinced she knows everything — and I’ve operated under this assumption since at least my teens. Yes, I was a goddamn delight — stumbling across something I actually didn’t know is like a tiny intellectual Christmas.
For example, after I carted my mom to the BMV to get her state I.D. (I chose the version that expires in eight years rather than four. She’s 93. That should be sufficient), I sang the praises of that particular branch to the gentleman holding the door for us as we left.
YES, IT HAD A DOORMAN.
I said, “It took me 40 minutes to transfer my tags yesterday in Medina. I will never, ever go there again.”
And that’s when he said—prepare yourself— “We’re subcontractors. That’s why each branch is… different.”
Friends, the largesse he demonstrated by not shit-talking his competitors made me tear up.
I then discovered that the branch of the BMV in Wellington, Ohio, is owned and operated by five sisters. (This may be apocryphal, but it feels right. It has sort of a Steel Magnolias vibe to it, but set in the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. “Renew your license, Shelby.”)
Of course, the first question is, “Why? Why would you want to run your own branch of the BMV?”
Well, for the money, of course. Duh.
Here’s a list of the service fees that you, as a deputy registrar, can pocket while you make people’s lives a living hell:
$5.00 for vehicle registrations, driver licenses, identification cards, and other driver and motor vehicle-related transactions;
$0.90 for each vision screening performed; and
$8.00 for driver's license reinstatement fee payments.
Ninety cents (let’s call it a dollar) every time somebody presses their greasy forehead to that black plastic bar and tries to remember left from right while having their retinas blasted by a laser pointer.
It adds up.
Each January, the Ohio BMV issues requests for proposals (RFP) for the selection and appointment of deputy registrars to operate license agencies in Ohio.
Deputy registrars are independent contractors selected on a competitive basis. License agencies administer duties related to the issuance of driver licenses, ID cards, vehicle registrations and other services on behalf of the BMV. - from The Ohio BMV website
When something has “Ohio” in its name (or insert the state of your choice), one automatically assumes that it’s owned and operated by said state.
TBH, I feel a little tricked.
The word “subcontractor” carries a lot of baggage. It’s a bit “less than”. Subs are the bastard children of any given industry. Subs don’t know what they’re doing, and nowhere can I find anything about any particular knowledge or skills that are needed to run the BMV.
For example, we had problems with the phones at work, so I called the phone company. A young girl showed up in an orange vest and a battered Subaru pick-up truck with no markings and said she was there to fix the phones. She was a subcontractor.
Gentle reader, she did not fix the phones. And then sometime later a guy showed up in a giant truck and fixed the phones.
You see my point.
So the whole Deputy-Registrar-as-subcontractor thing explains why, in Medina, I stood in line outside on the sidewalk for 20 minutes, only to go inside and play musical chairs for another 20 before I was ushered to the counter for a five-minute transaction.
All the while, the person controlling the door flirted and conversed with the men and ignored me and every other woman in line. You notice I say “controlling the door.” She wasn’t holding it open for anybody or wishing them a pleasant day. She was exerting her power. The end.
I watched her ignore a small elderly woman standing next to her for a good 15 minutes because the woman was too timid and confused to speak up. I was about 30 seconds away from going over there when she finally sent her to a window.
That is not what I call triage.
If I had my own BMV, things would be different.
For one thing, it wouldn’t be located in a strip mall behind a car wash with three parking spaces. It would be located in a field with 100 parking spaces, like a Walmart.
Music would greet you as you approached the entrance. The interior wouldn’t look like a state mental hospital. It would smell good. There would be colorful artwork on the walls to distract you from the mass of unwashed and unmasked humanity clustered around you like a herd of wildebeest.
I’m thinking maybe fingerbowls. Too much?
My doorperson would get a bonus for treating people with exceptional courtesy and kindness. Bev’s BMV would be known far and wide as the BMV to visit. People would come just for the hell of it, they wouldn’t even need anything. It would be a tourist attraction.
I might offer snacks. I’ll have to check my budget.
And don’t forget that you can subscribe to Medium to see everything I write (which is a lot. Possibly too much). Follow this link and get full access to EVERY STORY ON MEDIUM. Endless variety for $5.00 a month.
Flatliners LOL
"I’m thinking maybe finger bowls. Too much?"
Maybe too much. As some of the flatliners in the line cues might think it's a refreshing drink.
Of course I don't know anyone who would actually do that.