The jack-booted Gestapo guy confiscated our parking placard, gave her a copy of the property document and told her that I would have to go to the police station to retrieve it. I thought I would have to wait until the next day because he was still out on patrol. “No,” she said, “He told me that you need to go right away because it would be at the station before you could get there.”
So later in the afternoon I drove across town to the station. I was greeted by Barney Fiffe on steroids with a control issue. “What do you need?” he asked.
“I want to retrieve our confiscated handicap placard,” I answered.
“Well why would the officer tell my employee that it would be here before I could get here?” I asked.
Then Barney started exerting his authority, “Hey, don’t talk to me about it. Go talk to the officer.”
I snapped back, “It's not my job to talk to him. I’m not his supervisor. He told me it would be here.”
Barney Fiffe grabbed my receipt and commanded, “Well then just sit down and wait for him until he ends his shift.”
I hate going to the DMV. I waited in line for 20 minutes to get to the desk marked “START HERE.” I told the public servant chick behind the counter what I needed. She asked if the placard had been stolen. “No," I said, "the police officer confiscated it." So she handed me a form to replace stolen license plates and told me to fill it out and wait for my turn.
Finally they called my number. I handed my paperwork to the clerk and told her what I needed. “I’m sure this is the wrong form,” I said, "my license plates weren't stolen. I'm here to retrieve a confiscated handicap placard."
“You can’t do it that way,” said her supervisor. Then he looked at me and said, “You filled out the wrong form.”
I filled out another form.
Then I was sent to wait in line at another window where I was finally issued a NEW replacement placard.
That whole compounded ordeal, from the local police department to the State DMV was a costly, bungled, bureaucratic waste of time, energy, and resources at the taxpayers’ expense. And it was totally unnecessary. All right, my employee shouldn’t have done it; she got her citation and she'll pay a fine. I won’t argue that. That should have been the end of it. But no, government bureaucracy cannot do anything in a simple, straightforward and sensible way.
I never did retrieve my confiscated handicap placard. I'm just happy that the police department wasn't holding something valuable; I have no confidence that they can be trusted with other people's property. So where is my original handicap placard? My guess is that some jack-booted Gestapo thug guy has it in his personal vehicle so he can snag a convenient parking spot whenever he is in a crowded lot.
I can hardly wait until the government runs our free health care.