Thanks A Lot David Oakes (in Ridgefield that is!)

The “car rules and regulations” here in Connecticut are new to me, thus they are very odd and strange and even extremely frustrating at times. I have to say, one thing about Nutmeggers is they seem to love to pay taxes…..along with federal tax that we are all stuck with, they pay state income tax, property tax, sales tax, and yes, even a car tax. There is a tax (in the amount of hundreds of dollars depending on the make and model you drive) just for the privilege of driving on Connecticut roads. Really. Oh, and that's on top of the obvious insurance fees, car registration and license plates that we pay as well. Which brings me to today's lunch hour....

I got my registration in the mail about a month or so ago. It was expiring on November 8th. I paid the $85 and waited for my new registration sticker to arrive in the mail. It never came. I waited until Wednesday, Nov 3rd and started googling.....what to do if you don't get your registration sticker in CT...that kind of thing. After quite a bit of googling and reading, long story short, I figured out they weren't going to mail me one. I was suppose to keep the slip (that I had thrown out) that came with the payment form. No more car stickers as of this summer. I called to check on it and the Hartford DMV office said I owed car taxes and they were holding the registration until it was paid. ????

I pulled my Hebron Tax Account up on-line. (Oh here 's another strange thing about CT. Not only do they seem to like to pay taxes, they like to have websites where you can pull up who paid what and how much and how much they have back taxes and on and on. No privacy). Weirdest thing. But I seemed to be okay on the site.

I called the town and they faxed me over a form saying my taxes were paid. Okay. Well, a pain but not the end of the world. I called the Hartford office back to see where I needed to email or fax it. The lady on the phone said "Oh no, you have to go in and show it in person." My head started to pound. You see, there is a large DMV right by my office. I've been there before. I wanted to change my name on my license when I got married. After the nightmare parking lot, I walked in and saw the lines and walked right back out. FORGET IT! I could go to a smaller one on Saturday morning. And that's what I did that time. But since my registration expired on the 8th, if I waited until Saturday, I would have to pay a fine for a late fee even though I REALLY HAD paid my taxes. Frustrating!

So, I left about 12:00 and headed over. The parking lot didn’t seem nearly as crowded. I got a spot right up front. Perfect! Then I walked in and to my pleasant surprise there was hardly a line at all. I walked in, took my place and waited. I got to the counter, explained my story and the lady cleared my account and sent me up to the third floor to get my actual registration. I was in and out and up the stairs by 12:15. Great!  

I walked up and down a long hallway. There was a lady finishing up with a man. "Can I help you?" she asked. I told her my story again and she said "Oh, I'm not in that department. You have to use that phone", she said as she pointed to an old, filthy phone sitting on a table with a laminated sheet, "and dial the extension you want". I looked at the phone as she walked off - it was a small plastic phone that reminded me of the one I spent my teenage years on....I picked it up....is it not flu season? Is it not a public phone that EVERYONE has to use, touch, cough into at the DMV OFFICE? Yuck....I held the phone out with tow fingers and kind of yelled into it. I wasn't about to put that up to my face. I realized just how far we've come as a society.....the idea of a public phone....now we all carry our own. And not only that, it's our color, our ring tone, our photos, our little identity in our phones. I could just feel the germs.  But I digress....I explained my situation for the third time....sentences getting shorter...tone getting sharper.  "I don't know why they sent you up here. You need to go back downstairs."   I wasn't in the mood to argue with her. I was in the mood to put the phone down. So, I did just that and back down the stairs I went.

By now it's closer to 12:30 and the line is much longer. I had evidently beat the lunch crowd the first time. I walked in and explained to the lady at the "help counter" what had gone down. "That lady" I pointed like I was at the climax of a great court scene, "She told me to go upstairs"...I explained my story a 4th time. Ugh. It was getting tiresome, later into the lunch hour and I was wearing thin. She pointed me to yet another line and there I stood.

There was a man at the counter with bundles of paper strewn about the ledge. Had he brought his whole file cabinet? He was arguing over an amount and stood there with checkbook and pen in hand. JUST SIGN THE CHECK!!!! I thought. There should be an “argue line” so the rest of us and get things done. My mood wasn’t improving by what was in front of me: Two teenage girls, not speaking English, were flirting (and I use that term “flirting” loosely) with, I kid you not, someone that looked like he was an 40 year old Mexican drug cartel leader….no wait…not the leader in the linen pants and hat like you see in the movies…..like one of the traffickers….the kind that gets killed in the first 10 minutes because he’s not crucial to the plot ….’common girls, get in school….what’s going on????

Now I don’t mind standing in line. Everyone deserves a turn. I’m not the type that gets anxious standing in line waiting to checkout. I don’t think I should be able to pass other people just because I’m me…..If someone was there first, they deserve to be there and I’ll wait…….but I DON’T like standing in line just to find that I was sent to the wrong line and need to stand in yet another line…..and another line……UGH!! My nerves were worn thin!

I finally got my turn and walked up to the counter. When the lady didn’t know what I was talking about, I could feel my voice begin to shake and my eye glass over with frustration. I’m getting too frustrated now to even right about it. Long story short, there’s a David Oakes in Ridgefield who hasn’t pay his taxes and so they were holding up my registration. In an attempt to be pro-active, I asked all the right questions: Is my account linked to his? Is there a note you can put in the system? Will this happen next year? Is there anything I can do? The lady looked at me and mumbled something about not really. It’s just the system. Every thing is the same but their date of birth. ??? I just wanted to get back to the office, so I said okay and took my registration and headed out as quickly as possible. But as I got in my car her words went through my head again. Everything is the same? So…the address in Ridgefield is the same? Same social? Same license plate? His birthday is obviously different. Does “EVERYTHING” mean his name is David Oakes? I don’t know….but I have a feeling the DMV has linked me to this guy…. We’ll see next year!

I headed straight to the nearest CVS, grabbed a small bottle of hand cleaner and a bottle of Diet Coke and wiped down everything I may have touched from the steering wheel to my wallet, purse handle and on and on…..No telling what I picked up from that phone! YUCK! And now I’m back to the office…..

The End.