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Monday, March 31, 2014

County Tax Assessor-Collector's Office

My son's car has been broken down for, what we in real life like to call, a very, very long time.  He had basically driven the thing into the ground.  We put it into the shop at in February and found the head gasket had blown and the head needed re-planing. Since my husband and I were paying for this, I found the need to know exactly what was wrong.

So anyway, the shop doing the re-planing got behind in their orders and our mechanic just got the head back last Thursday.  They call us on Friday afternoon to give us time over the weekend to sell a kidney and make sure the kid gets car insurance and the car registered (a very, very long time, remember) and we can pick it up. Great.  Hello?  Kidneys R Us?

So my son buys insurance and we head down to the County Tax Assessor-Collectors Office, which used to be all "Buddy" Skeen, but now no one knows who holds that office because you no longer make your check out to a convicted elected felon. We wait in line because it's the last day of the month (or I would have put it off 'til morning) and finally get called to the desk of a woman who had taken a break in between her last customer and calling us up to her put of despair.  Evidently, as she tells us, she has a nice who has some sketchy health problem and had to go to the hospital and she's worried that she hasn't returned any texts or phone calls.  While she's telling us this she adjusts her body no less than four times. It was like looking at a bowl of Jell-O that had not set properly.  At the same time she's trying to read the VIN (say VIN Number and I will slap you) and then tells us it's wrong.  OK, my husband texted it to my son this morning when he paid up at the garage, it's very much within the realm of possibility.  We give her the license tag number and Voila!  Yes, my husband had fat fingered it.  Everything is in order and then after we listen to more family and hospital nonsense she tells us that she can't issue the tag until tomorrow, because the brand new stinkin' insurance doesn't go into effect until midnight.

First person who says "but those are the rules" will lose protruding parts of their bodies.  He has to pay extra for the car not being registered and not being on roads for over a year.  Yeah, he has to PAY his road tax for NOT using the road for the past year or so his car has been garaged. Secondly, what if he'd been deployed and had his car in storage and just got home today to buy insurance again and could not get another day off to come down to the fucking office to pick up a gorram sticker?  It's less than 10 fucking hours away lady! TEN HOURS!  Then she tells my son he needs to get his driver's license updated to his new address and then... and then... TELLS US TO HAVE A NICE DAY!

That's the biggest bureaucratic fuck you yet.  You just made us wait in line for nearly half an hour among people who smell like fucking cabbage, cooked fucking cabbage, can't function without their cell phone, and who want to do illegal things, real illegal things with car titles (that cop wasn't there for nothing, honey).

So I had to wait in line, then listen to your fucking redneck family history, watched you adjust your body fat all over your chair and your desk and you basically tell us "Fuck You! Have a nice day!"

Die in a fire!  You could have easily done a solid and moved on, but you decided to be a bureaucrat. That's fine honey.  I actually do know your boss, because I'm active in politics in the county, and what's more, I'm his boss, so yeah, we're gonna talk and perhaps a performance review is in your future.  You know all of those "Fill Out The Survey" forms you and your ilk have removed from around your office?  There are more of those.  But that's not important.  You smiled, you said hello, then you fucked around with us.  So, in that vein, I will damn you with faint praise, back-handed compliments and down right mediocrity.  And what's more, Judy, that is your name as you told us, I will make sure those surveys get filled out by many others who have had to deal with you and your department.

Now I know why I do my registration on line and buy years at a time. Not only do I lock in this years rates for the next 3-5 years, I don't have to deal with bitches like you who have forgotten who they really work for.

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