Department of Malevolent Villains

Otherwise known as the DMV. So...I took the afore-mentioned safety inspection certificate, and my DC license, and my insurance card, and my registration, and my car title, and my passport, and my social security card, and my lease, and I went to 301 C. Street, NW, which, despite being the Department of Motor Vehicles, has about three parking spaces. Then I stood in a long line of bored people, some of whom were hanging listlessly off their significant others, most of whom were staring into the abyss that is the Waiting Area. I got to the head of the line. They gave me a number. I slid into the Waiting Area. They called my number. I proudly and resolutely walked up to Window 3 and laid all my paperwork out:

Me: "I am here for a zone 3 parking permit!"
Her: "Do you have your DC license?"
Me: "Yes!"
Her: "Do you have your car inspection?"
Me: "Yes!"
Her: "Lease?"
Me: "Yes!"
Her: "Insurance?"
Me: "Yes!"
Her: "Is your car registered here?"
Me: "Well, isn't that why I'm here?"
Her: "Why isn't it registered?"
I stared at her blankly. "Um...because...I haven't...registered it...yet. But that's why I'm here. Isn't it?"
Her: "Insurance?"

So I got out my insurance card. She looked at it. "This isn't DC."
"Well, no," I said, " I just moved from Colorado, so the new paperwork should arrive next week. But it's still insured with the same company."
Her: "You need paper proof of DC insurance. I can give you a temporary parking pass until you get it."
Me: "I already have a temporary pass. I need a permanent one."

And then she said, with absolute condescention: "Well, you've had three weeks to do this. Why haven't you registered your car yet?"

I wanted to shoot knives out of my eyes. "I know I've had three weeks to do this. I've been to four DMV locations six times in those three weeks and had my car repaired. NO ONE told me that I needed to bring a paper copy of DC insurance to get my parking permit."

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Sorry. Come back later."

I left the building and burst into tears, which ruined my mascara.

Then I called my wonderful insurance company, who e-mailed me a copy of my DC insurance paperwork while I was on the phone with her. She also found a way to cut my insurance payments in half. May Laura from USAA, her children, and her children's children be blessed.

So today I will leave work an hour early, get on the metro and go to the DMV yet again. I called them this morning and asked, very specifically: "What exactly do I need to bring to the DMV today to register my car and get a parking permit?"

And when I get home, I will mail my just-drafted complaint letter to the nasties who are in charge of not telling people how to get parking permits.