Date: Fri 08-Mar-1996

Publication: Bee

Author: KAAREN

Quick Words:

Reporter's-Notebook-DMV

Full Text:

Reporter's Notebook: Dealing With Dante's DMV

B Y K AAREN V ALENTA

The first hint of trouble - had I been astute enough to recognize it - was the

missing registration renewal letter for the Buick sedan.

Arriving home from work each day in February, I flipped through the mail, idly

wondering why the letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles wasn't there.

Days slipped past. Finally, at the beginning of last week, I realized that

even if the letter did arrive, there wouldn't be enough time to mail in the

fee before the February 29 expiration date.

I would have to go to DMV in Danbury.

I was confident the trip wouldn't be much of an inconvenience. I had gone to

the DMV amost exactly a year ago to transfer the registration of my Dodge

Caravan (the motor blew up after I spent $2,000 on repairs - but that's

another story) to a used pickup truck I purchased from friends who were moving

to Italy. That DMV trip wasn't without its glitches - I had to pay for new

license plates because the pickup is considered a quasi-commercial vehicle and

requires "combination" plates. Still, the entire trip took less than an hour.

Because I already had disposed of the mini-van, I had its plates with me. I

paid the additional fee, turned in the old plates and was on my way.

So last Tuesday, on my lunch hour, I drove to the DMV office with the Buick's

registration and my checkbook. The clerk in the information line said I didn't

need to fill out any forms.

"Just take a number and wait for your turn," he said, handing me a ticket with

the number 693 on it. The neon sign hanging over the waiting area read 662.

There were 31 customers ahead of me.

Scanning the rows of molded plastic chairs, I found an empty seat and waited.

Fifteen minutes later there were still 31 customers waiting. Three service

windows were open, one with a sign indicating that the clerk was "in

training." Maybe the computers are down, I speculated. Nothing seemed to be

happening.

Two young men, chatting amicably in Spanish, entered the building and sat in

empty chairs next to me.

"You have to get a number," I volunteered.

"We got one an hour ago," the youth seated closest to me responded with a wry

grin. "We just went to get lunch. We're back and they still haven't gotten to

our number."

I looked at the neon sign. It read 667. A customer left the trainee's window

but the number didn't change. The trainee and two clerks stood, talking,

behind the counter.

"Maybe they're on their break," the youth next to me ventured.

I looked at my watch. I had to be back at work in Newtown in 20 minutes.

Muttering angrily to myself, and to everyone within earshot, I left. Heads

nodded sympathetically.

Not only had I squandered time and gas, I now had only two days before the

Buick's registration would expire. But inspiration struck as I drove back to

work. Instead of making another lunchtime trip, I'd send my son who had just

come home from college on spring break. He had plenty of time, I reasoned.

The next day I gave him the registration and my check and wished him luck.

The phone on my desk rang at 11 am. The voice was familiar.

"I don't own the car so they won't let me renew the registration," my son

said. "You have to fill out forms before I can do it."

If they had mailed the renewal to me, I would have mailed in the check, I

replied, my voice rising. Joe Blow from Timbucktoo could have mailed in the

check. Why does it matter now how the check gets to them?

"It's the regulation," he said.

One hour later, the forms completed, my son was back at DMV. Another number,

another wait. Finally his turn came.

The clerk looked at the form, entered some numbers into the computer, and

scowled.

You can't renew the registration, he told my son. The registration was

canceled a year ago. It was transferred to another vehicle. You'll have to pay

for a new registration and new license plates.

"You've been driving an unregistered vehicle for a year," he added, scolding

my son.

Completely at a loss for words, my son paid the fee.

"Here are your new plates," the clerk said, handing my son a package. "Be sure

to bring the old plates back to DMV and turn them in."

I remember the story told to me by a friend whose car was impounded by police

several years ago. He was ticketed for driving it unregistered, all because he

hadn't noticed that the renewal letter had failed to come in the mail.

"I was dressed in a business suit and driving to my office when the policeman

stopped me," my friend explained. "I didn't look like some dirtball who

deliberately drives around in an unregistered car. But instead of letting me

drive to Motor Vehicle, he impounded my car on the spot."

My friend was forced to walk to a pay phone to call a neighbor so he could

borrow her car. He drove her car to the DMV, registered his car, returned the

borrowed car and had to ask for a ride to the lot where the car was impounded.

There he had to pay the tow charge to get it released.

Debbie, a young woman in my office, had a slightly different experience. When

the patrol car left her and her husband standing beside Mill Plain Road in

Danbury, the tow truck driver made his move.

"Give me all the money you have in your pockets," he said, "and you can have

your car."

Seventy dollars poorer, the couple drove their now-plateless car home, praying

that they wouldn't be stopped again enroute.

I mention this because Debbie is going through another nightmare experience.

She mailed her $70 check to DMV and never received the renewal sticker. She's

been existing on "temporary" stickers, each good for 60 days, each requiring

another trip to the DMV.

She wrote a second check, which has been cashed by DMV, but she has been

warned not to put a stop-payment on the lost one. If she does, and that check

eventually reaches DMV, her driver's license automatically will be suspended -

even though she has already paid what she owes.

And I think I have problems.

Still, I wonder, how did DMV manage to cancel the registration for my Buick

instead of the mini-van if, as I suspect, that's what happened a year ago?

Several times in the past week I have tried calling the DMV's toll-free number

(the only one published), with its automated answering system. Pretending that

I don't have a touch-tone phone, so that I will be connected to a live

operator rather than the computer/voice system, I have spent more than 10

minutes on hold each time before being forced by the demands of my job to give

up.

Why am I pursuing this? Because intuition tells me that complications will

persist long after I make another trip to DMV to turn in the plates. What, for

instance, is the status of my annual automobile tax if the mini-van is still

registered?

I sold that vehicle for cash, in another state (where it had self-destructed),

to someone who wanted it for its parts. I realized long after I turned in the

vehicle's plates last year that the DMV clerk did not give me a receipt. So I

have no way to prove that the mini-van, and those plates, aren't still on the

road somewhere.

I know I'm facing at least one trip to the DMV and a trip to the tax

assessor's office. What else? A trip to the emissions station. I just noticed

that the windshield sticker expired in January.